


Regrets Collect like Bullet Shells

by Loveandcoffeeandothersimplicities



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fuck Glen. Don't trust him., Juggie is who Betty opens up to about her kidnapping, Not like a normal fix-it., Protective Jughead Jones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveandcoffeeandothersimplicities/pseuds/Loveandcoffeeandothersimplicities
Summary: Bughead one-shot, seven years later. Synopsis inside.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 394
Kudos: 189





	1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I have never been one for a "fix-it" one-shot for our beloved Bughead cause that's on Roberto. But, I did happen to watch the first episode after the 7-year time jump and finding out Betty fucking Cooper is a badass Federal Agent, I couldn't not address my thoughts and write them down. That being said, this is not a fix-it. This is a "Bughead will rise as they always do and Jughead will be the first-person Betty opens up to about her time in captivity".

Jughead watched as Betty Cooper sat across from him in the gang's familiar booth. She was cradling a cup of coffee (black, interestingly enough), and bags underneath her eyes that rivaled his on a good day. Watching her, he clocked her body language. She was holding herself up by sheer determination alone, it seemed. He would be lying if he said he wasn't still mad at her, but he would also be lying if he said he wasn't concerned by her current predicament. Old habits die hard, huh? Just then, she turned an unnaturally shade of pale that found him reaching towards her in alarm.

"Betty?" Jughead asked, but she didn't answer, eyes instead on the television in Pop's diner.

"Pop, can you turn that up, please?" Betty asked, tone calm but with an undercurrent of…something.

Pop nodded, turning up what Jughead turned around to find out was the local news station. He caught snippets about how a girl had left the outskirts of Riverdale last night – had been picked up by a truck driver and her body had been deposited just thirty miles east of where she had originally been picked up. Swallowing, he turned back to watch Betty who had a look of pure anger on her face. Whipping out her cell phone, she held up a finger as if she understood he had questions and punched in numbers with such ferocity, he was scared she was going to break a finger.

Holding the phone to her ear, she waited while it rang. Someone picked up eventually.

"This is Special Agent Cooper," she hissed into the phone. "Get me Glen, now."

(Agent? Glen? Not your business, Jughead).

"Glen, he's here. Outskirts of Riverdale," Betty's solemn voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he watched her carefully. There was a pause. "Yeah, and who's fault is it that I'm on desk duty?" Another pause, and she narrowed her eyes. "Forgive me, Glen, but this is not Quantico and you're not my boss. Not here. For now, I'm not even sure you're my boyfriend." Shutting the phone with as much fierce anger she had as dialing said (boss? Boyfriend.) Betty slammed her phone down on the tabletop, running her fingers through her hair.

"Fuck," she breathed. "Oh fuck." Nodding her head to herself, she slammed money down on the table for her coffee. "I've got to go. This has been fun, Jughead." She bit out, running out the door the next moment and leaving Jughead alone to his thoughts and a million questions he had no answers to. He didn't need the answers, he knew this. Problem was, he wanted them. Dammit, Jug.

XXX

After taking a long shower, Jughead sat down at the desk in his hotel, pulling up his laptop as he did so. He began searching for anything he could about what the news anchor had said that morning. TBK is what she had referred to when stating the killer. Serial killer of some sort then. And, one it seemed the FBI was tracking if Betty's reaction was anything to go by. Entering the name into Google's search engine, he waited for a moment before images pulled up. The killer had been at large for months now. Targeting women. None of them had survived except…one. Clicking on that particular article, Jughead scanned it in its entirety, eyes skimming the words detailing what happened. An agent went in, looking for a victim, but got kidnapped. No. Nononono. Inhaling shakily, he continued reading. Said agent, who requested her name be kept out for privacy rights, was held in TBK's lair for two weeks, subjected to horrifying acts of violence. No no no no. Swallowing the urge to vomit, Jughead clasped his hand over his mouth, mulling over his thoughts. He knew.

"Fucking shit, Betts," he muttered. "What the hell happened?"

XXX

Knocking on her door after tracking down her address, Jughead stood outside of her apartment, head pounding from the lack of alcohol pilfering through his system. What he wouldn't give for a fucking drink right now. But, he needed a clear head for this conversation. He heard footsteps approaching then a firm, "who is it?"

"It's Jughead, Betty," he replied. A pause and he rocked on his heels as he waited to see if she'd let him in or not. Finally, he heard the sound of not one, not two, but three deadbolts clicking open and a bar being slid back. Opening the door, he eyed her warily. "Got a reason for that many locks?"

"One can never be careful," she replied. "What do you need Jughead?"

"You going to invite me in? This isn't a conversation I think you'll want outside," he said, folding his arms across his chest, stance defensive. She sighed before nodding and pulling the door open. He walked in, looking around as he heard her locking all her locks back in place. His eyes fell on the gun she had resting on the table by the door. "Keep that with you at all times, Agent Cooper?"

"If you want to know something, Jughead, ask me," she said, tone icy. He looked at her.

"What happened in Quantico, Betty? With TBK?" Jughead asked.

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "Just brewed coffee for the afternoon. Let me get you a cup."

He followed her into the kitchen, taking in the way she had case files strewn across her table. A quick glance showed him that they were about the killer. She met him with a cup of coffee, eyes falling to the table, fingers tracing the files. "How much time you got?"

"I'm all yours," he said quietly.

XXX

After they settled themselves into her couch, he let Betty start the conversation at her pace. Cradling her mug in her hands, she nodded.

"The agency has been after TBK for months," she began but he paused her.

"Congratulations on becoming an agent," he said, smiling slightly.

"Thanks, but desk duty isn't all that it's cracked up to be," she replied, smiling sardonically.

"You on desk duty until you're cleared after being held hostage?" Jughead asked softly.

She looked up at him sharply, before laughing tiredly. "Trust you to look into the case, Jones."

"I wasn't the Ned to your Nancy for nothing," he commented.

She took another sip of her coffee, collecting her words, and continued on. "Yeah, they won't let me back into the field until I've been cleared by the therapist and Glen. My, uh, boss. Man I'm sleeping with, too."

Jughead wished it wasn't like a punch to his gut to hear those words. Afterall, he had gotten in a relationship himself. Had fallen out of said relationship and fallen into bed with another girl the very same night. He wasn't going to make her feel awful for that. He just nodded.

"He won't clear you. Why?" Jughead asked, looking at her curiously.

"I won't open up in therapy," she said simply. "About my time in captivity. I won't share what happened."

"You need to," he said, holding up a hand as she went to protest. "I'm not saying to the therapist or Glen. I'm saying to someone you can trust."

"Don't have many of those people in my life," she laughed bitterly. Again, he fought the wince he felt. At one point, he would have been who she'd open up to. True, she was the one who cheated, but he didn't give her any inclination that he wanted to fight for them. And, she had. She had tried to fight. So, he could, would, take credit where credit was due.

"Then, talk to me. You have me," he said, well aware of the implications behind his words.

"Do I?" Betty asked, eyes searching his. Swallowing, he nodded.

"You do," he murmured, squeezing her knee gently.

There was a pause so long Jughead wasn't sure he had convinced her. Then, in a quiet voice, she began speaking as her eyes got lost in memories.

"I thought I was going to die on the fourth day," she murmured, and he inhaled quietly because Betty Cooper and dying were two words he refused to hear in the same sentence. "I hadn't had any food or water in those days, and I thought I was going to die of hunger. Reminded me of you." She laughed a little.

"Me?" Jughead asked, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, in high school and you'd complain of dying of hunger even if you had had something two hours prior," she chuckled quietly, and it panged at his heart. She didn't deserve to know the hunger he felt because of a madman hellbent on torturing her.

"That was the beginning, wasn't it?" Jughead asked quietly, and she nodded, swiping at a stray tear.

"He had thrown my body in a very deep hole he'd dug. Luckily, I was unconscious from the chloroform he had knocked me out with, and I didn't have to feel the impact of the fall. Of course, there were injuries," she said quietly, holding up her wrist. Letting his eyes fall to it, he spotted that it looked –

"Shit Betty," he breathed. "Your wrist was broken so badly they had to do surgery?"

She nodded. "Crushed is what the doctor's said. Required pins. Anyways." She paused and took a sip of her coffee. "The games started after that. Mental and psychological."

"Games," he murmured, and she nodded.

"Yeah. He knew I was an agent. "Profiler being profiled", he taunted. I was drugged on a near nightly basis and trying to survive…there were points I didn't want to anymore. Figured I had had reached my limit," she muttered.

"But, you didn't," he reminded her gently, still swallowing down bile.

She nodded, wiping at her eyes once more. "Barely. The night I was rescued, I was lucky. I had spent the last fourteen days trying and failing to climb out of the hole he had me thrown in. It was too high, and he'd just be standing at the entrance of it, watching me, laughing at me when my fingers would fumble in the earth and I’d slip and fall back down all over again."

"God, baby," he muttered, closing his eyes. Term of endearment didn't miss both of them, but they didn't address it. He continued on. "You got out. You're alive."

"Barely," she whispered. "I drink three to four cups of coffee every night to prolong sleep cause I can't handle the nightmares I lie about not having in the therapist's office at headquarters. I see him everywhere. It's rather funny, you know. I didn't dream much about Hal, if at all. Maybe just right after Prom Night. But, I dream about this sick, sadistic fucker who gets his jollies going by harming innocent women. I've seen serial killers; know them like they're my fucking bread and butter. But this? This is something I don't know if I can come back from."

Looking at her door, Jughead spoke quietly. "That why you have three deadbolts?"

"And two on my bedroom door along with a padlock," she murmured.

"Jesus," he sighed sadly. "Fuck this guy."

"Yeah," she laughed tiredly. He looked at her. Really looked at her.

"What aren't you saying, Betty?" Jughead asked softly.

"It's my fault," she whispered, and he jerked back as if he had been slapped.

"What? What is?" Jughead asked.

"Everything. My kidnapping and the fallout that has come since. I went in without backup, Juggie," she whispered, voice catching on his nickname like fate wasn't through proving it's point. "I went in without backup, nearly died, and now he's still out there and already hurting and killing once more. That's on me."

Jughead shook his head firmly, gripping her face in his hands. "Listen to me, Agent Cooper. This is not your fault. You're as much of a victim as those other women. You survived by fighting. You didn't let him win. Yes, he's still out there and yes, I understand the blame you're placing unrightfully on your shoulders, but you fucking survived Betty. You got out. Don't fall far enough in here." He paused to tap on her forehead. "To the point that the only person you lose to is yourself."

She inhaled shakily. "I can't sleep Jug. I have nightmares."

It was said in such a broken whisper that Jughead pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'm cutting you off coffee as of now. Morning time is fine but after ten, no more. I'll make you some of the chamomile tea I saw in the meantime. And, uh, if you want, I can stay until you fall asleep."

He looked at her as he whispered the last sentence, gauging her reaction.

"Can," she paused, chewing her lip nervously and he waited patiently. "Can you stay after I'm asleep?"

He pressed his lips firmly to her forehead once more as she let her body sag against his chest for the first time in seven years. "Yeah, I can baby."

It was a soft promise, and he went and made the tea, letting her sip it as he helped her straighten up everything, putting away the files she had been looking at. They would be addressed after she got the sleep she needed. Throwing a blanket over her, he watched as her eyes lulled shut when her head hit the pillow on the opposite end of the couch. He had checked the locks per her request, making a mental note to remind her that she has a gun and maybe having that many locks would be more of a hindrance if she needed to get out of her apartment in a rush one day. Watching her for one more moment, he smiled as his thumb smoothed out the look of worry between her brows.

"Damn, Betty," he sighed. "The things you make me feel all these years later."

Then, a quick kiss to the corner of her lips, and he too was slipping off to sleep, resolving to help with her case one way or another. Cause, like she had said to Glen, this wasn't Quantico and she ran the shots here. Nancy Drew was always the best version of her, and she'd need her Ned. He wasn't leaving her alone this time. Not anymore.

Author's note: Finished. Enjoy! Xxx


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Me being who I am, I have decided to carry on with this story. I don't know when updates will happen and it will probably (definitely, knowing Roberto likes to take every good potential Bughead idea and throw it in the fucking shredder), be very AU. But, here we go.

Jughead woke up to the sun shining at an odd angle. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he watched the shining sun filtering through Betty's blinds, remembering that he had come to her apartment the day before. Why was he there again? Ah, yes. The conversation about her time in fucking captivity. The time he wasn't with her – no matter the fact that they hadn't seen each other in seven years – those two weeks out of all those years a part would be what would haunt him til his last breath, of this he was certain. The fact that she was there by herself, with no one to offer up a beacon of light for her fears tore at his heart the way a caged animal tore at the cage it was locked away in. Sighing, he looked down at Betty who, during the night, had somehow shifted in her sleep and ended up resting against his chest.

Even in her sleep she looked unsettled; brows scrunched together as her jaw ticked. She was having a nightmare of some sort.

"It's okay, hon," he murmured brushing her hair away from her face. "You're here, in your apartment, safe." A pause and then he swallowed his pride. "I'm here, you're okay." He carded his fingers through her hair hesitantly, wanting to know which boundaries were okay to cross.

Jesus. They had never had boundaries before – not since they had started their relationship back in high school. Of course it would be a kidnapping that she endured that would cause him to break the boundaries set in place since their breakup. He clucked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, so fucking angry at himself for not swallowing his dignity sooner. He had turned to the bottle – like his old man – in a desperate attempt to drown his heartache and she paid the ultimate price.

"Get out of your head, Jughead," a quiet voice murmured sleepily, and he looked down to see her waking up. "If you're insisting on helping me with solving this case and catching TBK, I need to know that you have my back. Even…even if everything goes back to normal after and we go back to not talking."

Her words, while not sharp, still cut him deeply like a knife. Inhaling shakily, he shook his head.

"I'm not going to go back to the way things were before. We will solve this case, you won't be hurt again in the process, and we will figure out everything else in-between," he said softly but firmly, looking at her steadily. She, in turn, nodded and sat up, stretching her arms above her head and causing her shirt to rise up in the process. He didn't miss the ribcage that was protruding, and he winced. "When's the last time you ate something of substance, Betty?"

"Funny thing about being held hostage and not having food, your appetite diminishes in general afterwards. I can survive off coffee for quite a long period of time," she shrugged, tone casual. He sighed.

"Fuck, I'll make something," he said, pushing the blanket off his legs and standing up. "What do you have?"

"Uh," she paused, looking at him sheepishly. "Takeout menus are my go-to in Washington. We don't have a Thai place in Riverdale, unfortunately. And, I don't have that many groceries, if any, here. So, coffee is what I can offer."

Again, he sighed. "We'll go to Pops and then the grocery store."

It wasn't a question and she nodded.

"Okay, let me just go shower," she murmured, sliding off the couch as well and going into her bedroom. He paused, falling silent as he heard her locking the two deadbolts in her bedroom followed by the sound of the padlock clicking in place. He tried not to take it personally that she didn't feel safe around him. Safe enough, at least, to keep her door unlocked.

Turning back to the couch, he began to fold up the blanket and went to put it away in the closet he got it from the day before. Stretching up to put in on the shelf, his eyes landed on a box clearly from her headquarters and tilted his head, wondering if he was crossing more boundaries by looking through it. Deciding he didn't give a shit, he carefully pulled the box down and went back to the couch, opening the lid with shaking fingers.

Inside the box were pictures of TBK's victims. He searched through them, looking for what he knew would be there, before landing on pictures of Betty. She was, as she had said the day prior, in a hole that was so deep into the earth he was surprised she managed to climb it partially in the first place. Shaking his head, he set aside that particular photo and kept searching through the others.

Betty tied to a chair; mouth taped shut tightly.

Betty with her face beaten in. God.

Betty, cradling her arm in the hole, tear tracks running down her face.

Betty being injected with a needle as her eyes pleaded with the man in the mask next to her.

"Shit was worse in person," came her voice and he jumped, having not heard her leave her bedroom. Turning around, he spotted her in a pair of jeans and a sweater two times too big for her.

"Betty," he said, trailing off as he swallowed. "Tell me. Tell me you don't spend your nights reliving this shit intentionally?"

His voice was shaky at best.

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "Jughead, this is my job."

"Don't hit me with that bull shit," he snapped, wincing at his tone, before continuing on more softly. "This is not what you need to be looking at every night before you go to bed. Dammit, honey, wasn't it bad enough that you went through it? Why would you force yourself to relive that hell by looking at images of your abduction?"

She shrugged, picking at a piece of imaginary lint on her sweater before nodding. "It makes it real. Looking at these images…makes it real that yes, I was a victim, but no, my life didn't end."

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Jughead saw pain buried in her eyes that he wasn't sure he had ever seen. Even when finding out her dad was a serial killer. Swallowing a lump in his throat that felt like swallowing nails, he closed his eyes and nodded.

"I get that," he whispered. And, he did. He understood her need to remind herself that she survived the horrors inflicted upon her. Still, hearing her story and seeing the images of her story were two different things for Jughead and he found her apartment stifling all of a sudden. "Come on. Breakfast and coffee and then groceries."

XXX

Pops was quiet – an occurrence that seemed to be the new norm. Shaking his head as he took a sip of his coffee, he tried to pretend like he wasn't watching his ex out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her to have another emotional breakdown.

"Stop staring at me like I'll fucking shatter into a million pieces, Jughead, or your ass is not helping me," Betty said quietly, no heat behind her words. She just sounded exhausted. He watched as she took a sip of her coffee, hands shaking slightly, and he glanced at his watch.

"It's nine. One hour left to get in all the coffee you can before I cut you off," he said, changing the topic. Coward.

"You were serious about that?" Betty asked, eyebrow quirked.

"Damn straight I was," he replied, folding his arms across his chest. "You're not going to keep self-destructing in an attempt to not face what happened. The images you keep and look at I can deal with, if I have to, but I draw a line at you going days without sleeping."

"Says the author," she said quietly. "I read your book, by the way. It was as good as I knew it would be."

There was a stretch of silence before he replied.

"Thank you," he murmured, voice grateful. "I, uh, wrote it for us."

She nodded but didn't say anything and he wondered what he had expected her to say in the first place.

"So, Glen?" Jughead asked, wincing internally at the fact that he willingly brought up the man his ex, (why can't you add the word "lover" to that Jughead?), was sleeping with.

Betty chuckled dryly. "Yeah, Glen. Boss. Man I am, or was, fucking. He's also currently looking after Toffee."

Jughead blinked. "Toffee?"

Please don't be their kid.

"My cat," she said, and he laughed.

"Interesting name choice, Betts," he teased.

"Yeah, how's Hotdog these days?" She quipped, and he laughed once more.

"Fair play."

The silence that engulfed them wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn't their old comfort they wore like a safety blanket, either. Sighing, he watched as Betty asked Pop for another refill, nodding his head as well when Pop turned to him, pot lifted in question.

"Top it off, please," he said with a grateful smile.

"Glen, while being nice to call if I need a night to forget, isn't someone I see long-term," she brought up. He watched her as she spoke. "He put me at a desk because I couldn't talk about what happened during those two weeks. That's not what I'm mad about, not really. I'm mad that he's…got this weird infatuation with about my mental health. He's wrapped up in how an agent who's had her fair share of serial killers in her life is doing with another one."

Contemplating her words, he leaned back into his booth and folded his arms across his chest.

"Maybe he is just worried?" Jughead offered, even if he didn't believe his words.

She shook her head. "He's not. Glen doesn't do "worry" about people. We met fairly quickly when I joined the agency. We were fucking by my third week there and on the nights I just didn't want to see him, I'd say I was going out with friends for Thai. If he cared enough to worry, he'd call me out on that lie."

"Lie?" Jughead asked.

"Jughead," Betty snorted. "I told you yesterday I don't have anyone in my life I trust. I don't have friends in Washington to go out and eat with. Thai would be in my apartment by myself while I spent another night going over the case and trying to figure out how to catch this guy."

He chuckled but it wasn't amused. "You got to trust people, Betty."

"Okay, Mr. "I'm weird, I'm a weirdo". You trust people?" Betty challenged him.

I want us to learn how to trust each other the way we used to.

"I trusted my ex?" Jughead offered. Then regretted that because her reaction, no matter how minute, told him she was hurt. She shook it off, took another sip of her coffee, and let her mask of indifference slide back in place.

"Sorry to hear you guys broke up," she murmured, tone sincere. "Break-ups are a bitch."

Mind on their eighteen-year-old selves, he nodded.

"They are."

XXX

Eventually, arms laden down with grocery bags that she paid for, despite his offer, (which, he was grateful for her decline because his debt he owed was still very much a thing right now), she let them into her apartment, automatically locking the door as she juggled grocery bags in her arms.

Setting them down on her counter, she began unpacking them, pausing to check a text on her phone. Smiling slightly, he watched as her eyes got a little brighter.

"Toffee is doing well," she said, more so to herself than him.

"Glen send you a picture?" Jughead asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, proof he hasn't forgotten to feed her," she replied, slipping her phone in her pocket. "I wouldn't put it past him in all honesty, not with the way I handled that conversation yesterday."

He sighed, turning to face her. "You had a right to say what you did. Despite him being your boss, you were right. Riverdale is not Quantico and you can look into the deranged killer who kidnapped you. Not sure about you guys still having sex though."

She snorted. "Honestly, there's only so many times a girl can turn to her vibrator after another night of faking the orgasms."

Biting his lip, he refrained from laughing at that. He still wasn't sure where his head was as far as what was going to happen between them after they solved the case, nor was he sure about what she wanted, but he did take pleasure in knowing he could at least give her an orgasm.

"Come on," she drew him out of his thoughts. "Lets start from the beginning with TBK."

"For that, we'll need…," he trailed off, smirking at her.

"A murder board, Ned," she said, voice soft.

"You got it, Nancy," he replied, tender in a way he hadn't thought he knew how to be all these years later.

Author's notes: Would really, really like feedback! Xxx


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Since I have yet to figure out how to italicize my work for Archive, I'll let you guys know this first part is all italicized, as you can see on fanction net. You'll, hopefully, be able to understand when it's back to regular font. I'm getting out chapters quickly while I can. We're in a severe weather storm (sup, Cris Kringle?), and my work has been closed since last Friday. Enjoy! Comments and kudos appreciated as always! (Also, I strongly urge you guys to listen to 'Lay Your Head on Me' by Major Lazer and the lead singer of Mumford and Sons while reading this one). Xxx

Betty awoke with a jolt, body instinctively understanding she wasn't somewhere she was familiar with. She didn't remember much that had happened before she was…knocked unconscious. She was knocked unconscious. Shit. Gulping, she looked around at her surroundings, noticing she was tied to a chair and someone was working on digging a hole several feet away from her. She tried to shout out to that person, to make them aware that she was awake, but the words were muffled by the tape across her lips. They seemed to sense her woken state, however, and turned around.

Recoiling, Betty stared at the person in front of her, taking in his mask. TBK. Without a doubt. That's when the memories flooded through her mind. She had gotten a lead on his latest victim and where she was being held; had run ahead of the rest of the team, despite Glen's words of caution, and went into his lair, hoping to find the victim in time. She hadn't. She was dead by the time she got there, and it looked like Betty had gotten herself kidnapped in the process. Swallowing audibly, she watched as TBK made his way towards her, movement very much the illusion of the predator he was.

Looking at her for a minute, the killer turned to a table next to him, picking up a syringe and filling it with some type of liquid. Drugs, undoubtedly. Betty began to struggle against her binds, trying to get the upper hand in any way that she could before he shuffled towards her and held her still with an arm wrapped around her chest. Breathing heavily due to a combination of nerves and adrenaline, Betty looked up at him and shuddered as he held a few loose locks of her hair in his fingers, smelling them appreciatively. He flicked the needle, letting the liquid slide down before hovering it above her arm and she shook her head, begging him with her eyes to not do this; to show a little bit of mercy. His deadly cold eyes haunted her as he jammed the needle into her arm, causing her to start slipping off her hold on consciousness once more.

Sitting up in bed, back ramrod straight, Betty awoke with a soft cry. Body trembling, she looked around, taking in steadying breaths as her eyes landed on Jughead, who was crouched down in front of her.

"It's okay," he murmured. "Keep breathing. Yeah, just like that." His encouraging words, not that she was going to admit it to him, were what grounded her the quickest. One final shaky inhale, and Betty flopped back against the pillows on her bed, rubbing a hand over her face.

"Shit," she sighed. Then – "How the hell did you get in my room, Jug? I know for a fact I locked the locks last night."

Jughead looked appropriately abashed but shrugged his shoulders indifferently as he replied. "Forgetting I know how to kick in a door, Betty?"

Memories flooded her mind of him and his friends doing that for her in high school when Chic needed to be taught a lesson. She laughed; voice raw.

"Yeah," she uttered. "I guess I did."

He smiled slightly, although it didn't meet his eyes which held pain she hadn't seen in seven years. "You going to be alright for a minute on your own? I'm just gonna go get you a cup of tea."

She nodded, leaning further back into her pillows. "I'll be fine. You don't have to, though. Not the first time I've had a nightmare and I've always taken care of it on my own."

That looked like the exact reason he wanted to get her the tea. Nodding his head, he stood up straight. "I'll go boil the kettle now. Hang tight."

XXX

Ten minutes later, Betty was dressed for the day. Sitting at her small kitchen table in leggings and another oversized sweater, she accepted the cup of tea Jughead handed her with a grateful smile.

"Thank you," she murmured. He nodded his head, sitting down across from her with his own cup of tea. Nodding her head at it, she quirked an eyebrow and he understood her confusion.

"Figured if you weren't having coffee at the moment, at my insistence, the least I can do is drink some tea, too," he laughed a little and Betty sighed, feeling content over the fact that it wasn't a bitter laugh. Not like what she had heard in her nightmares for the past seven years before her time with TBK became all she dreamed about. He smiled a little, as if he understood her thoughts, and she dipped her head in appreciation.

A few moments of quiet descended upon them before Betty broke the peacefulness. "This is my favorite time of day. Morning."

"Why?" Jughead asked, looking perplexed. "Mornings are awful."

"For the night owl," she replied. "But, for me? It means the night is over and I can move on from whatever horrors held me hostage." She paused as he inhaled sharply. "Sorry, poor choice of words."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize to me about that. Especially not to me." His voice was firm but soft. "I understand what you mean, though. Nightmares. Not sleeping to prevent said nightmares. I-I don't think I understood completely how bad the nights must be for you before I heard you screaming in your sleep."

Betty swallowed her sip of tea and forced her voice to remain steady. "I was screaming?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, you were. I don't know what part of your captivity you were dreaming about, but I know it must have been a really bad part. You sounded terrified," his voice was grave; as if he had just been told someone he loved had died.

Keeping her eyes on her mahogany table, she chose her words with care as she began to speak. "I dreamt about the first night. Right when I woke up after being kidnapped. I was tied to the chair – as you have seen from one of the photos. He, uh, heard me wake up. Watched me struggle for a few moments. I can still picture the smirk I know he wore under his mask. He moved towards me and I remember thinking, just kill me, please. That was a scary thought. Not the first time I've had it, nor do I think it'll be the last." She ignored the way his breath caught in his throat and continued on. "But to think it so soon after my abduction? I knew I had already given up on a fight. He grabbed a syringe, filled it with liquid, and held me down, arm across my chest, as he shot it into my arm. I then became terrified, as you saw in the other picture. The one where I was pleading with my eyes alone. I didn't want an addiction. Not another one. Not after the Adderall I fucked with in high school."

She watched as Jughead took in everything she said, listen to her words with care before nodding.

"I understand that fear," he murmured. "I used to have the fear of turning into an alcoholic like my dad. Not a fear anymore. It's a reality."

She watched him as she absorbed his words, taking in the meaning and levity of them before replying.

"You once said we are not our parents. I think we're destined to be like them more than we care to admit," she stated honestly. "No judgment on my end for the alcoholism. My dad was a serial killer and now I hunt ones for a living. I won't analyze that too closely."

Jughead chuckled. "Yeah, I followed in my father's footsteps and you hunt down people who matched your father's footsteps."

She cocked her head to the side, wondering briefly if she was pressing buttons she shouldn't be. A second later, she realized she didn't give a fuck if she was. Her ex had made it very apparent he wasn't going anywhere right now, so the least she could do was return the favor.

"What started the drinking?" Betty asked softly.

"Betty…," he trailed off, voice pained.

"The breakup?" Betty asked casually.

He tapped his knuckles on her table, licking his lips. "I would say yes, that started it, but no, it wasn't what kept it going. I, uh, haven't had the greatest luck in publishing anything lately. Hit a huge writers block that I can't seem to get out of. Jess and I breaking up didn't help."

The last sentence was a quiet mutter underneath his breath, but she still caught it.

"I am sorry about you guys breaking up," she said sincerely. "I have only wanted happiness for you."

She felt raw and on display; wanting to run and hide.

He chuckled. "We weren't good together – my fault, I'll admit. She urged me to get help for my drinking problem and I refused. Kept saying I was too busy with writing and I'll go the next day, I swear, Jess. Never did. Couldn't be the man my dad was proud of when he left Riverdale."

"Doesn't mean you can't be now," she said simply, shrugging a shoulder.

"How was college for you?" Jughead asked, changing the topic and she knew when to let it rest.

"It was college," she replied. "I had a couple of acquaintances. Knew a few people well enough to go out for coffee as we studied for finals."

"You must have been lonely," he said, seeing through her transparency in the way only Jughead Jones ever knew how to do. Reading between the lines she craftly put in place.

"Didn't matter if I was lonely. I got my penance. Twice," she said.

He looked at her. "Don't tell me you think being lonely in college and being kidnapped is the penance you deserve for what happened in high school. Don't you fucking dare."

Jughead's tone was dark, ever the snake he once was, and she laughed. "Jones, c'mon."

"No, no 'c'mon', Cooper," he snapped. "You cheating and me being a guy with too much pride does not equate to a kidnapping and loneliness. I may have been mad, yes, but I would never think either one of those things were worth a price to be paid."

She shook her head, not sure how to continue with that portion of their conversation so she didn't. "Right. Okay, so we need to set up the murder board. I figured we could do that after I make us breakfast. You good with toast and bacon? I can scramble eggs as well." She stood up from the table, going to deposit her tea cup into the sink, feeling his eyes on her back the whole time before replying.

"Sure. How can I help?" Jughead asked, voice filled with…something. She didn't know what it was, didn't want to know what it was, either. Not right now. She jerked her head towards the coffee pot.

"Turn that on, please. We'll need it," she muttered, scrubbing her hands clean before pulling out the breakfast food she needed. They'd have the breakfast, dance around issues long buried, and make the murder board. They could do this. She could do this. Afterwards…well, they'd cross that bridge, hopefully together.

Author's note: Just realized that I wrote this in Betty's perspective. It'll mainly be told from Jughead's. And, check the tags on Archive. I'll be updating them when I upload this chapter. Xxx


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** Okay, I will be taking two things from last night's episode. (Not that shower scene). 1. Betty and Archie being worried about Polly – cause in my AU, they're friends. (Sorry?) 2. Uh, I actually forgot the other thing I was going to take but there is character death in this chapter. We gonna be in the angst feels in this chapter, too. Buckle up.

Jughead watched as Betty paced back and forth, drinking coffee as if it was water. Knowing that she had been deprived of water, leading to malnourishment, he headed over to her, stilling her with a hand to her shoulder. "Let me get you some water."

It wasn't a question, but he also made sure to keep his voice gentle enough to not cause her to snap back. He didn't want her fighting him; didn't want to be a reason for her to feel the need to lash out. He watched as Betty rolled her neck, shoulders stiff with tension and she sighed, before nodding her consent.

"Okay, yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Jug," she murmured. He debated asking a question about something he had heard from Archie and not her and eventually, did so.

"Heard you guys broke up the Ghoulies living at Archie's house, Agent Cooper," he said, voice tinged with a hint of pride. He was also disappointed he hadn't been there because despite what he told himself, he would never not want to be there to back up his friends. To back up Betty.

"Yeah, Polly was hanging out there. I don't want her mixed up in a life of drugs," she muttered, voice frustrated. He nodded.

"I know. Is that why you keep checking your phone like clockwork?" Jughead asked, watching as Betty's eyes shifted to him. She bit her lip, before nodding.

"We had a fight a few days ago and I haven't heard from her since. My mom said it's normal for Polly to run out when she's mad and not return for a while, but this is a bit much," she mumbled, sighing as she rubbed a hand over her face. Shaking her head, she squared her shoulders. "Let's get that water and then go look at the board."

Jughead knew she didn't want to worry more than she had to, and he respected that. Afterall, from one of their conversations previously, she was known to still be the same old Betty Cooper in one aspect: not wanting anyone to worry about her. She hadn't told anybody in Riverdale she had been kidnapped; hadn't told their old gang, either. Jughead truly was the only person who knew outside of the team she worked with in Quantico. Not sure what to think about their friends, he did know Alice Cooper had a right to know but he also knew it would have ended up in expletives being shouted and both parties angry. Betty would tell her when she was ready. Or, so he kept telling himself.

XXX

Standing in front of their murder board after Jughead had forced her to eat the breakfast he made ("Jughead, what part of a diminished appetite don't you understand?", "Betty, I do not give a fuck. I will force-feed you if I have to. Try me."), Jughead trailed his eyes over what they had created so far. TBK seemed to have a theme with the women– small, single, and on their own when he took them.

"You said he picks them up if they're hitchhikers?" Jughead asked, eyes looking at a picture of a woman who had, unfortunately and unrightfully, passed before her time. Betty nodded, eyes staring at a picture next to her own.

"Yeah, easiest targets for him. Sometimes," she said, voice barely above a whisper, and Jughead turned towards her, watching as she stared at another picture, index finger trailing it gently. "Sometimes, he'll hunt a woman who is walking down on a road at night with his truck. Chase them down as she tries to run away."

Jughead swallowed, stomach coiling in knots at that thought. It was terrifying for him, so he knew it was terrifying for this prick's victims exponentially more. "How'd you figure that out?" His voice matched her whisper.

"The woman I went to go look for. Right before I was kidnapped? She was one he did that to. The agency found strands of her hair on the road and tire marks skidding – as if he had stopped and started multiple times. I can still imagine how petrified that poor woman must have been. To be running and not knowing what was going to happen," she murmured, voice quiet.

"How are you doing with all of this?" Jughead asked quietly. "We can take a break."

Betty inhaled sharply, looking like she was ready to fight back, so he continued.

"Murder board will still be here tomorrow, Nancy. Why don't we go get something to eat? Pops," he suggested softly, hoping to convey how important it was to him that she give herself a break. Chewing on her lip indecisively for a moment, Betty eventually nodded.

"Yeah, I could use a burger," she agreed finally. Pulling on their coats, Jughead and Betty left, Betty automatically locking all three of her locks.

"You think you might want to consider getting rid of a deadbolt or two?" Jughead asked quietly, hands shoved into his pockets. At her raised brow, he hastened to justify his questioning. "If you need to leave your apartment for whatever reason in a rush one day, three deadbolts will hold you up."

Reading between the lines, she replied. "Yeah, but the gun I have will take down who is chasing after me in the first place. Easy."

He snorted. "Fair point, Betts."

She licked her lips and nodded but didn't say anything and they fell into a slightly less uncomfortable silence than they had been in at Pops a couple of days ago. Eventually, the diner came into sight and they walked into the familiar warmth of it, Jughead headed to their old booth on instinct alone. Betty stilled him with a touch to his forearm.

"You sure you want to sit there?" Betty queried and he paused, unsure of why she asked. Of why _he_ didn't. And, of why he didn't mind sitting there. Not in the slightest. Nodding his head, he shrugged.

"It's a booth, same as it's always been," he smiled before finishing the walk towards it and rattling off his order to Tabitha Tate the moment she bounced over. Turning to Betty, Tabitha waited expectantly.

"Burger and coffee, please," Betty said.

Tabitha quirked an eyebrow. "No milkshake? Not what my grandfather told me about your favorite choice of drink."

Betty smiled slightly but shrugged all the same. "Coffee is my preference these days."

Her voice was quiet, and it seemed Tabitha knew and respected enough not to push, so just dipped her head in acknowledgement and said she'd have their orders in. Bringing back the pot of coffee, Jughead watched as Tabitha filled Betty's cup and then his, before walking away once more.

"Thought we had a deal you'd stop after ten?" Jughead asked.

"No, no deal. _You_ suggested an idea, a preposterous one, might I add, and I went along with it for as long as I could," she smiled sweetly. "Now, I am a woman in need of her regular coffee consumption."

Jughead knew he was fighting a lost battle on that one so just nodded in surrender and drank his own coffee, trying not to smirk at the shit-eating grin on the blonde's face as she reveled in her victory. They let the silence linger around them, Betty drumming her fingers on the tabletop as they waited for their food to be delivered. Tabitha came by a couple of moments later and deposited their plates, smiling at their appreciation.

Taking a bite of his burger, Jughead chewed as he thought about how to phrase his question as delicately as possible. "How worried are we about Polly?"

Betty bit her lip, chewing her food slowly before taking a gulp of coffee. "Honestly? Worried. TBK was last known to be on the outskirts of Riverdale. With Polly hanging out with the Ghoulies, I don't know where she hangs out in general these days."

Jughead understood the fear in her voice; she didn't want her sister to go through what she did. "You ever end up deciding if you're going to tell Alice?" His voice was quiet, non-probing, but he did want her to know he felt like she should.

"I don't know Jug," she admitted. "Alice doesn't handle a crisis very well and her finding out her daughter was held hostage for two weeks would be very catastrophic."

"How did she not find out, Betty?" Jughead asked, voice borderline pleading. It was something that had bothered him – that the agency hadn't reached out to her.

"I-I don't have her as my emergency contact," she said. "I don't have anyone."

"Why." His tone was flat because he was mad. He may have been drunk more nights than he could remember the past seven years, but he wouldn't have minded being an emergency contact if it meant he could have found out what happened and helped her through it when she first got released from the hospital.

"Because, Jughead, I didn't want anyone," she said firmly, tone conveying she was through with the conversation. Like fuck he was, though.

"Bett-," of course, it would be the sound of her phone ringing that interrupted him. He watched as she pulled it out, eyes lit up before dimming. Not Polly then. "Agent Morrison, how can I help you?"

She didn't say Glen's name so maybe it wasn't him who was calling.

"Shit, another victim? Okay. Yeah, I'll be there," she said, and if he didn't know Betty Cooper like the back of his hand, he would have missed the quiver in her voice. He didn't.

"I, uh, got to go view the body," she said, voice slightly choked.

"Do you mean identify the body, hon?" Jughead asked, heart pounding as he watched her face crinkle.

"Yeah. Yeah I do," she muttered. "I'll see you later." He stilled her with a firm but gentle hold on her wrist.

"I told you, I'm here. Please, don't push me out now," he said firmly, and she nodded.

XXX

Getting out of her car, Jughead took in the scene before them. A couple of agents collecting samples in little bags and another one, a woman, watching Betty expectantly. Betty looked at her and made her way towards her, Jughead trailing behind her, mouth in a grim line.

"Our vic. She suffer too much?" Betty asked, voice betraying no emotion.

"No, Cooper, she didn't. Less than you," the agent assured, and Betty nodded.

"Thank you, Morrison," she said, before turning her eyes to the body covered by a white sheet and inhaled shakily. "God, please don't let it be her." Closing her eyes, Jughead watched her take a steadying breath before lifting the sheet.

The air filled with a guttural scream of anguish and Jughead's feet were moving before his brain had time to process what was happening. Catching Betty as she fell backwards, he pressed her tightly to his chest, an automatic reaction to _that_ scream that had left her lips. He never, for as long as he lived, wanted to hear it ever again. Turning his head to the body that had yet to be covered, he looked down into the lifeless eyes of Polly Cooper.

"Don't look, baby, don't look," he whispered into Betty's ears, gathering her more tightly into his arms and holding her as much as he could.

"No, no, no," she said, rocking back and forth. "No!"

The other woman, Agent Morrison, met Jughead's eyes, and he noticed how tired she looked; how sad for Betty. "Is it Polly, Betty?"

Betty just screamed in response and Jughead nodded.

"Yes, it's fucking Polly," he said, voice hard as he tried to shield the one person he ever loved from more pain that she never deserved. "Don't look. It's okay. It's okay."

"TBK?" Betty demanded, voice dark and hollow. He didn't know that was possible.

"Yeah, you were right. He made his way to Riverdale," Morrison said. "Glen should have listened to you. Took it seriously."

"Glen should do a lot of things," Betty hissed, tears running from the corner of her eyes as she forced herself to take steadying breaths. "I need you to do me a favor, Emma." Jughead assumed that was Morrison's first name and he watched as the other woman nodded. "Go to Quantico, get Toffee from my apartment and come back to Riverdale. I'm putting TBK in the fucking ground with a bullet from my gun. I need to know if you're willing to throw the rule book out the window." Her voice shook, much like her body in Jughead's arms, and Emma nodded.

"I am," she said firmly, eyes falling to Polly's body sadly as she waved her hand to someone else and they covered her up once more. "I'll be back in less than three days. I'll take an extended leave of absence." The agent promised and Betty nodded, choking on her words and her sentences and her _air._

"You got to breathe for me, honey, you got to breathe," Jughead reminded her as he held up her weight. He doesn't know how long they stood there – long enough to ease them down to the ground and place her in his lap – but eventually Betty's cracked voice broke the silence.

"I'm going to kill him, Jughead, and don't you dare stand in my fucking way," she hissed, voice venomous. He nodded, pressing kisses to her hair.

"I need you to promise me something," he said, not pausing to give her a chance to interrupt him. "Promise me that you'll live, and he'll be the one who dies. For what he did to you and those other women; to Polly."

His own voice wavered, knowing that Betty had just lost another member of her family. The pain. He couldn't fathom it. He didn't want to fathom it. But, he would. For her. Always for her. For her cries of pleasure as he brought her to climax time and time again in high school; for the way she scrunched her nose when she laughed at one of his terrible movie puns; to the way she said Juggie so softly when she held him after he finally broke down and cried after Gladys left a second time; a final time. And, most importantly, for the way his name was not her emergency contact and she had no one – not him – when healing from her kidnapping.

"I promise," Betty said quietly.

 **Author's note:** Enjoy! Thoughts always appreciated! Also, will finally get Archie and Veronica and (my personal favorites) the Serpents brought in next chapter. Xxx


	5. Chapter 5

Jughead watched as Betty slept, _finally_ free from nightmares for the night, thanks to the sleeping pill he had slipped into her tea with her permission. He had a hard time convincing her at first to take said sleeping pill but after reassuring her countless times it was safe, non-addictive, and would actually let her get a solid night sleep for the first time in _too fucking long_ , she had caved and let him put it in her tea. Carding his fingers through her hair as he watched her sleep, he remembered the conversation he had had with Alice earlier in the evening. How the Cooper monarch had collapsed onto the ground after finding out her oldest daughter had died. Jughead had held Betty as she had crumpled into his chest yet again, keeping his mouth shut on the fact that Alice still didn't know that her other daughter had been kidnapped and tortured by the man who killed Polly.

Honestly? It was an honest-to-God fucking nightmare and Jughead Jones wanted revenge for the Cooper family in general. Pressing a kiss to Betty's temple, he tightened his hold on her, needing to remind himself that she was here, in his arms, _safe._ TBK hadn't gotten to her again and he would make damn well sure that he never would. Remembering that Betty had said she didn't mind if Archie, Veronica, and the Serpents found out, he shot off texts to the appropriate people. Pausing before he sent off one to Sweet Pea, he added a "it's for Betty", knowing the taller always had a soft spot for her and was banking on that weakness to be the reason for him not to get decked in the face. He had a right to his anger. Jughead had painted the Serpents in a negative light. Sighing, he pressed himself as close to Betty as he could, locking his arms and ankles around her so she couldn't escape or feel lonely should she wake up first, and fell asleep himself.

XXX

The next morning found a pounding on the door that jolted both Jughead and Betty awake. Watching as she gasped for air, Jughead shushed her gently. "It's okay, I'll go check. Stay here." Jughead's voice was soft and he went to go look out the peephole in her door before opening it a moment later. Veronica and Archie looked pissed; the Serpents wary.

"Why the hell did I get a call from a _very_ distraught Alice Cooper telling me to go check on Betty?" Toni Topaz snapped; eyes hard. Jughead sighed.

"Whatever our issues with each other are, Toni, I need for us to suck them up because shit has gone down in the worst way possible," he said. She blinked and it was Sweet Pea who spoke.

"What do you mean? Is Betty okay?" Sweet Pea asked, cracking his knuckles in a way that reminded Jughead that the taller was itching for a fight.

"What Jughead means," came a tired voice and Jughead turned to find Betty out of her room and staring at the group before her. "Is that my sister was murdered, and I had to go identify the body yesterday because the killer is someone the FBI has been tracking for months." She paused, before looking at Ronnie and Archie. "I know I said I'd help with wedding plans, Ronnie, but I can't right now."

Ronnie had tears in her eyes as she looked at Betty. "Betty…what?"

Betty swallowed, looking pained as she did so before turning to Jughead. "Did you tell any of them about…anything?"

He shook his head. "No. It's your story to tell."

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks. " _Fuck_ , I'd really like to stop crying." Her chuckle was aborted and painful and dammit, it clenched at Jughead's heart.

"Hon, you'll be crying for a while, as you have every right to do, considering…everything. But, I think you need to tell our friends what's happened since you started working for the FBI."

She made a noise in the back of her throat, shrugging helplessly. "I mean, are we even still friends?"

It panged at his heart, that she still felt so alone and isolated that she didn't think her old friends were there for her. Nodding, he answered.

"You're damn right we are. This isn't Quantico, Betty. You're not alone here. You don't have to push people away," he insisted, and she sighed, looking at the other people in the room for a moment before nodding.

"Okay," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Okay. To know what happened I need to walk you guys through what happened four months ago."

Sweet Pea looked at her. "How bad is it, Betty?"

Tone always gentle for his favorite blonde, Jughead nodded his head in appreciation at his kindness.

"It's bad, Pea. It's really fucking bad. And now, I'm just trying to figure out how to put the pieces back together," she whispered.

"How we will put the pieces back together, you mean," he asserted softly, and she nodded. "Okay, let's hear it."

XXX

After Jughead retrieved the box of evidence Betty had in her closet, he sat down next to her on the couch as everyone else took seats in whatever place they could find in her living room. Inhaling, he nodded at Betty. "Go ahead and start, hon."

Betty squared her shoulders and began talking. "There's a serial killer at large. He goes by the name TBK or, _Trash Bag Killer_ , more accurately. I'll leave you guys to your imaginations for that one. He targets women who are single, young, and small in body-size. Easy to overpower. One night, about four months ago, I got a lead on a victim he had. I, foolishly, went ahead and hunted down the lead without backup from my team."

"Meaning?" Kevin asked, sitting with Fangs, the both of them listening to Betty carefully.

"Meaning," she laughed tiredly. "I found TBK's lair and went in without backup because I wanted to find the victim; I was hoping she hadn't been killed yet. She had. And, I got kidnapped. Held hostage for two weeks before my team found me, and I was rescued. TBK escaped in the process, though. He's killing still." Her voice cracked and Jughead knew she was thinking about Polly's body. "We found Polly late yesterday afternoon. I had called my boss, Glen, earlier this week, told him I had suspicions about TBK being on the outskirts of Riverdale when another body was found. Same M.O. Glen didn't do shit about it cause he's proving a point."

"He's a dick," Jughead muttered bitterly and Betty laughed.

"Yeah," she murmured. "He is."

"Why didn't this Glen guy do anything about it?" Sweet Pea asked quietly.

Betty paused, playing with her fingers before answering slowly. "We, uh, were sleeping together. I'm that girl, you know. Sleeping with the boss."

"Miss me with that," Toni said firmly, and Betty nodded in appreciation before continuing.

"Glen put me on active desk duty after I got out of the hospital because I wasn't opening up in mandated therapy sessions at headquarters. They, Glen and the therapist, wanted me to open about my time in captivity and I couldn't, so I didn't. He thinks he's protecting me until I "get well" again."

"Glen can go ahead and fuck himself," Fangs spoke up, voice firm.

"God, I wish Alice had told me you had been kidnapped," Toni said. "I would have come and visited you."

Betty swallowed and Jughead looked at her.

"You need to tell them," he said firmly.

"Alice didn't know. No one did. I didn't – don't – have anyone as my emergency contact and I didn't tell them to call anyone. It was something I was dealing with on my own," Betty said quietly.

There was a pause.

"That's bull shit Betty Cooper, and you know it," Veronica hissed, eyes flashing dangerously as she cried. "You were kidnapped, held hostage for two weeks, and no one knew. _No one._ "

"Yeah, Veronica? Who was I supposed to tell? I wasn't talking to anyone from high school. Alice and I can go weeks without reaching out to one another, so she wasn't concerned about not hearing from me in the first place as it's pretty on par with how we correspond with one another. Tell me, _who was I supposed to tell_?"

It seemed like Veronica didn't have answer for that and fell silent with a sad attempt at a glare towards Betty. Sighing, Betty ran her fingers through her hair before continuing on in a quieter tone.

"Look, this prick killed my sister. Whether or not that is in a revenge-fueled act because I'm the only victim who has escaped him to date, I don't know. What I do know? I will be the one putting this fucker in the ground. I have an agent who is currently getting Toffee from my apartment," she paused at the peculiar looks she received, "my cat. And a few things I need, and then will be here in Riverdale on an extended leave of absence, helping me figure out how to catch this guy once and for all."

Archie, who had been silent this whole time, spoke up at last.

"How can we help, Betty? How can we help? Tell us, and we'll do it," he said, looking around the room for support and everyone nodded their agreement.

Betty sighed, looking down at the box on the table that held pictures of her time in captivity.

"I have pictures of my hostage situation. They're not pretty. Not in the slightest. But, if you guys are willing to swallow any discomfort, I need you to take a look at them, help me try to pick up things I have yet to do so. Also, Jug and I made a murder board, cross-examining the victims who have passed, unfortunately. I'll…I'll need to add Polly to the board, Juggie," she added with a whisper.

He nodded. "I'll handle it. You don't have to, hon."

Looking at the group, he addressed them. "Can you guys look at the pictures. It's just been us two looking at them for the past couple of days and we need some fresh eyes."

"Yeah, Jones, we can," Sweet Pea said, eyes holding pain for his old friend.

Betty exhaled and lifted the lid of the box, picking up the pictures cautiously and laying them out on the table. There were quiet inhalations from different people in the room as they took in her pictures.

Her tied up.

Her beaten in face.

Her being drugged.

"Shit, this dick drugged you?" Sweet Pea hissed, and Betty nodded.

"On a near nightly basis. The hospital had to flush my system of the toxins and needed to see if I would develop an addiction. Luckily, I didn't," she replied quietly.

"You're so thin Betty. He didn't feed you?" Kevin asked, voice a broken whisper.

Betty shook her head. "No food or water during the fourteen days. I was malnourished when I was in the hospital and needed IVs and a feeding tube the first three days there."

"Don't worry Kev, I'm making sure she eats," Jughead added, hoping to ease the pain a bit.

"Forcing me to, more like," she muttered.

"Well, I said I didn't give a fuck about a diminished appetite. I'm not letting you die of hunger. It goes against my very existence," he replied.

A quirk of her lips and her eyes looked a little less pained. He'd take it. He could feel Sweet Pea looking at him and looked up, spotting the taller looking at him with less hostility for the first time since being back. Sweet Pea nodded his head and Jughead nodded back, understanding the implications of the silent thank you the taller was sending. Like Jughead had thought earlier, his friend had always had a soft spot for his girlfriend after proving her loyalty to the Serpents. He knew how hard it must be on Sweet Pea to know Betty had suffered so much in those two weeks and then to suffer even more when Polly died.

As if reading his thoughts, Sweet Pea spoke up.

"Darlin', you're not alone now. I don't give a fuck who is your emergency contact, shit, put me if you want, but you _will_ have one. We need to know if something, God forbid, happens to you again while you're being a badass agent. In the meantime, you have all our help with catching this guy," Sweet Pea said, tone soft.

Betty looked around the room, taking in all the sincere faces, and nodded.

"Great. Thank you," she said, voice breaking. Jughead kissed her temple, not giving a shit who was watching.

"We'll catch him, hon. We'll avenge both you and Polly and all the other victims."

He'd see that promise through.

**Author's note:** Archie and Ronnie are engaged in this AU cause why not? I hate Chadwick with a burning passion cause men who feel emasculated by their wife's confidence grates on my last fucking nerve. Also, didn't want as much angst in this chapter. It'll be back, though! Enjoy! Thoughts appreciated as always! XX


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** I got bored and wrote another chapter. I'm honestly just waiting for you people to get bored with this story and the constant updates from this week as I've been home, tucked under blankets while a raging winter storm happens. So, uh, here's to hoping none of you get bored. (Also, I'll get around to getting Cheryl involved eventually. To be honest, it's her storyline I'm bored with the most. I know the writers are fucking up bughead but good lord, what are you doing with Cheryl? Come on. Her believing in a curse and isolating herself is so far off base of who she is. Jeeze. More creativity, I _beg_ you, Roberto). Anyways. Enjoy. Comments appreciated as always! Xxx

Jughead and, well, everyone had congregated to Betty's apartment office where the murder board had been set up. Betty herself was sat on the floor, looking through a file, Sweet Pea mere feet from her, looking through another one.

"I thought I knew brutality from growing up in the Southside and the repercussions of judgement from Northsiders, but shit, that was child's play," Sweet Pea muttered, eyes skimming the pages in his hands. "This woman, Theresa, she was the victim you went to go look for, Betty?" His tone was gentle, non-accusatory and Jughead knew Betty appreciated it.

"Yeah, I got a lead about where he was holding her and didn't have time to call in for backup. Just went in – blindly, I'll admit – and tried to get to her before she died. Needless to say, _that_ didn't work," she sighed, voice tinged with sadness. And, guilt.

"Not your fault," Jughead reminded her. "You got to stop carrying the weight of the world and your guilt on your shoulders."

Betty opened her mouth to reply but shut it just as swiftly and nodded before reaching for another file.

"This is what we have on Polly," she murmured, eyes dull. Kevin gently pried it from her hands.

"I'll look through that one," he said softly, hugging her as he did so before leaning back against Fangs so the two of them could look through the older Cooper's file. Jughead watched as Kevin swallowed, face morphed in sadness. "She didn't deserve this."

"No, she didn't," Betty muttered, wiping a hand across her nose. Archie spoke up.

"Neither did you, Betty," he said softly but firmly. "And, it's not your fault what happened to Polly."

"Archie," she said, closing her eyes. "We had a fight. I said some harsh things to her before she left that night and now she's dead. My words to her are the last thing she heard from me."

It was quiet in the room, each person taking in the gravity of the situation before Veronica chimed in.

"Betty, Polly loved you. You two may not have always seen eye-to-eye, but you were still siblings. Close ones at one point, at that. She knew you loved her," Veronica said gently. Betty cleared her throat, nodding sharply; short and once before continuing to look at the file in her hands she had picked up after Kevin took Polly's. Just then, there was a knock on the door and Jughead automatically made his way towards it, Sweet Pea and Archie following him.

"Who is it?" Jughead called, rather harshly, he'll admit.

"Agent Morrison. I have my badge as proof," the agent said and Jughead nodded at his two friends before opening the door to the other woman.

"Agent," he greeted. "Thanks for coming."

"You're welcome," Morrison said. "It's Emma. Is Betty here?"

"Yeah, she's in the office where everyone else is. Follow us," Jughead replied, leading Emma into the office. Emma took in everything, eyes landing on the murder board.

"Still the agent you are in Riverdale that you are in Quantico, I see," she said. Betty nodded.

"I'm nothing if not predictable," she murmured. "You bring Toffee?"

Just then, there was a mewl from the front hall and Betty stood up, rushing out of the room, and hurrying to where Emma had dropped off a carrier that Jughead hadn't first registered. She unzipped it.

"Toffee," she cooed in relief, picking up her cat and cuddling her close. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Betty's body visibly relaxed. "You don't look underfed so Glen's good for something, at least."

Emma snorted. "Oh, Betty. Glen assigned me to look after Toffee. I've been feeding her. Besides, you think _Glen_ would really know her favorite treats?"

Betty laughed. "Good point. Thanks, Emma."

"Anytime," Emma smiled before shrugging out of her jacket and rolling up the sleeves of her blouse. "Now, what do you have so far and what do you need from me?"

Betty paused, looking around for a moment, before turning back to Emma. "TBK killed another woman b-before Polly. Have we reached out to the vic's family?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I did it personally when I first got here. Unlike Glen, I believed you when you said TBK was on the outskirts of town. I looked into the woman who was killed and contacted her family in person. I thought about coming to speak to you but didn't, not yet. Did hang around and found Polly. You know the rest."

It was quiet for another moment as Betty's eyes clouded with pain. Emma continued.

"It's not your fault, Betty. Not at all. Despite what Glen and everyone else says, you made a good call to go after TBK four months ago. On your own was _questionable_ , I'll admit, but you had a gut instinct and you followed it. It's what we're trained to do as agents. We're lucky to have you. The fact that you survived by fighting every day further speaks volumes about who you are as a person. From a serial killer dad and half brother to being held hostage by one, you've seen your fair share of hell in this world. But, you keep fighting. And, the agency is damn lucky to have you. Glen will eventually swallow his pride and remove his head from his ass," she said firmly.

Jughead watched the two women for a moment before a movement caught his attention and he turned to spot Sweet Pea smirking at Emma. His look told him all he needed to know about just _how_ entranced the taller was with Emma and he raised his eyebrow at him. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes in return and cleared his throat.

"Emma is right, Betty," he said. "You fought, continue to fight, and you go down swinging each time just to get back up harder."

Emma turned to him. "Ballsy of you to think you can call me Emma and not Agent Morrison."

"Uh," Sweet Pea shifted, clearly unsure of himself, something that was a rarity in and of itself. Emma smirked.

"Keep the swagger, neck tattoo. Works for you," she added. Turning back to Betty, she pointed at the murder board. "What do you have so far?"

"Cross-examining the victims. All of them, so Polly is up there as well," Betty replied quietly, hands on her hips. Jughead watched her carefully each time she said Polly's name. Betty hadn't broken down since finding her body and having to listen to Alice being told. And even then, it wasn't a proper breakdown. Not one Betty Cooper needed or deserved. He knew it was coming, though, and just hoped she knew that she could have it in front of him. He _wanted_ her to have it in front of him; to know that he wasn't going anywhere. Not now, not ever.

"Do you know if Polly was on her own the night she was taken?" Emma asked quietly, eyes studying the board. Betty inhaled sharply but nodded, nonetheless.

"Yeah, she had, uh, run out of the house after an altercation between her and I and we didn't see her for days. The next time I saw her was to identify her body," she said, voice breaking slightly. Emma nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. I can get Nick here. He offered to come, wants to help."

"Our tech?" Betty asked, and Emma laughed.

"You know as well as I do he's always jumping for any chance to be away from Glen and he'll find this as the perfect one. Plus, he finds you funny. Thinks your cat obsession is hilarious."

"I do _not_ have a cat obsession," Betty scoffed.

"Betty. You have memes of cats you've printed from the internet tacked up in your cubicle, a God-awful cat mug and cat pajama pants I had the horror of finding," Emma stated.

"I like those pants. Keep me warm in the winter," she said offhandedly, and Jughead wondered if Betty knew she did have a friend in Quantico. Emma was a friend whether Betty knew it or not. He felt infinitely grateful for her.

Fangs spoke up then. "Can you get this Nick character here, Agent Morrison? I think a tech analyst from the FBI can help us right now."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, he's just waiting for my go-ahead text." She shot it off a moment later. "He'll be here by tomorrow evening at the latest."

Betty hummed. "Thanks."

"How's Alice?" Emma asked, looking at Betty first, then everyone else. Betty shrugged.

"As good as any parent can be when finding out their child died before they did," she sighed.

"And, how's she doing with your kidnapping?" Emma asked gently.

Betty didn't answer.

"Betty, come on," Emma said quietly. "She needs to know. Needs to know how to help you through your PTSD that, despite you pretending otherwise, you do have. I am very understanding of you not wanting to open up to anyone at Quantico, but your family needs to know."

"I'll tell her eventually," Betty began. "Just when she is in a better mental state and can handle it. She just lost her daughter."

"She needs to know she almost lost you too," Sweet Pea cut in, voice soft.

"Pea, come on, not now," Betty implored, and he nodded.

"I'll let it go for now, Coop. Just for now," he said. He then turned to Emma. "Does the killer have any – methods – for his ways?"

"He likes to dismember his victims," she said, voice stoic. "Uses a chainsaw."

"Jesus," Toni gasped.

"Yeah, forgot to mention when I was in that hole you guys saw a picture of that he stood at the entrance of it just randomly turning a chainsaw off and on, tormenting me with it over and over," Betty laughed bitterly.

Jughead winced because, well, he hadn't known about the chainsaw part.

"Betty, what the fuck honey?" Jughead whispered. She looked at him.

"There's somethings I'm still learning how to talk about," she whispered, shrugging sadly. "That and the fact that I thought I was ultimately going to meet my demise by the means of a chainsaw is one of them."

He had no words and didn't not give a damn about his next action: he pressed her tightly into his arms, much in the way he did when they found Polly's body but instead, this time, it was _him_ who needed the comfort.

"I'm so sorry I didn't stay in touch with you enough to be an emergency contact. I'm _so_ sorry," he breathed into her ear, eyes shut tightly as he held her in her arms and taking in the fact that she was here and well and _alive_.

"I fought for you," she murmured. "I fought to stay alive for you because I had hope that our story wasn't over. I don't know why. I just did."

Her whispered words were like gentle caresses to his shaking body and he finally forced his eyes open, noting that everyone else in the room was averting their eyes to give them a modicum of privacy.

"Our story won't end. Not now," he promised her. She nodded.

"I know," she said simply, kissing his jaw.

It was as simple as that for them.

 **Author's note:** Okay, won't post another chapter today. Really trying to make sure you angels don't get bored with me. Xxx


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:** I've got today and tomorrow to get in chapters cause I'll most likely (see: definitely) be back at the office next week. Upside? I should be back home in my apartment the following week for my rotation of at-home-work and that lasts longer so posts will pick up regularly, once more. Without further ado, enjoy! Xxx

It was a shrill, drawn-out scream that woke up _everyone_ in Betty's apartment, minus one person: Betty herself. Who was currently the woman screaming. Jughead had his arms around her, gently talking to her as she continued to thrash around.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. You're okay," he whispered, hating the way his voice broke in the middle of the sentence. It was a natural response to Betty Cooper being in pain, though. Just then, her bedroom door flung open and Sweet Pea and Fangs crashed in, guns raised, looking for any source of threat.

"Lower the weapons," Jughead whispered. "It's Betty." He tilted his head towards the blonde, watching as she still trembled and shook in his arms, sweat beading on her forehead. He curved his hand down her cheek, pressing his forehead to hers'. "Come on, sweetheart. It's okay. I need you to wake up."

He was kicking himself for not insisting on another sleeping pill, but she had said she didn't need it; jury was still out on that one, apparently. Eventually, her tremors slowed, and she came back to herself, blinking her eyes open blearily. Taking in the room, she huffed a laugh.

"Damn nightmare. I see I was screaming again," she muttered, tilting her head at the guns that hung in the Serpents' hands loosely.

"Betty…what the _hell_ did you dream about?" Fangs whispered.

"Time in captivity or Polly?" Sweet Pea asked gently, laying his gun down on her nightstand and watching her.

"Both," she mumbled, rubbing a tired hand over her face. "I may as well get coffee now that I'm awake."

"It's," Fangs paused to check the time. "Three in the morning."

"Nothing new, Fangs," she assured him, throwing the covers back and slipping out of bed, yoga pants hanging loosely around her hips. Catching the guys' looks of concern, Jughead nodded.

"I'll make breakfast. Anyone else up?" Jughead asked, getting out of bed as well. He paused his movement as he watched Betty bend down by her side of the bed and picked up his flannel he had discarded last night. Chewing her lip, she hesitated for the briefest of moments before sliding it on and heading out of her room. Soft smile on his lips, he followed her, ignoring the knowing look in Fangs and Sweet Peas' eyes.

Stepping into the living room he found, in fact, everyone had woken up. Hearing Betty's soft sigh, Jughead pressed his hand to the small of her back.

"Don't apologize, sweetheart," he murmured into her ear. "It's not your fault."

As if sensing her worries, Archie spoke up just then. "It's okay, Betty. We figured there were more psychological demons you were left with. None of us are mad or bothered to be up with you right now. That being said, I'll cook breakfast for everyone. Ronnie's got the coffee going and Toni is going to handle everything else."

Betty shook her head. "Come on, Toni should be sleeping right now. She's pregnant."

"And, you're my friend, Cooper," Toni said, walking into the room, her pregnant belly on full display. "Get out of your head long enough to realize none of us are going anywhere."

Her voice was soft and sincere, and Betty busied herself with washing her hands, murmuring a quiet, "thank you", as she did so. Knowing they didn't need an audience, Jughead turned to look at Sweet Pea.

"Where is Emma?" Jughead asked.

"How should I know?" Sweet Pea shrugged.

"Yeah, man, I'd believe you didn't know if I knew you didn't give her your number last night," he said, and the taller shifted around on his feet as a shit-eating grin threatened to split across his face. He cleared his throat a moment later.

"She checked into a hotel," he replied. "I know Betty offered her a place here, but she said she didn't want to encroach on her time with her friends."

"Emma is friends with Betty," Jughead insisted.

"Yeah, I know that," Sweet Pea nodded. "But, does _Betty_ know that? Because, from the conversations we all have been having, I'm getting the distinct impression she had a knack for pushing people away in Washington."

Jughead sighed, knowing Betty had most likely alienated herself from everyone at Quantico in order to not let anyone in too close.

"She didn't have friends in college, either. Just acquaintances, as she told me," he muttered, both him and the taller watching as the woman in question accepted a cup of coffee from Ronnie gratefully.

"Must have been lonely," Sweet Pea commented.

Jughead hummed. "My thoughts exactly."

There was a moment of silence before Sweet Pea broke it in a quiet tone.

"Look, Jughead, I may not be happy with the way you portrayed the Serpents in your book, but I do know you're the best thing for Betty right now. She's lost the light she had in high school and given everything she's been through; I don't blame her. I know the two of you broke up back in high school due to her and Andrews but, come on, they were teenagers. We all were. Mistakes were bound to be made," Sweet Pea said.

"What's your point, Pea?" Jughead asked quietly; not angry, simply curious to see where his taller friend was headed with this.

"My _point_ , Jones," he huffed. "Is you're not fooling me when it comes to one Betty Cooper. I see the lingering looks – the touches. You'll always love her, Jones. Man up and do something about it."

With that, Sweet Pea walked over to Ronnie, taking the cup of coffee she was offering him out of her hands and wrapped a single arm around Betty, saying something to the blonde that made her smile slightly as she nodded.

"He's right, you know," a voice said, causing Jughead to jump, cause what the fuck is with people sneaking up on him. Turning, he spotted Toni smirking at him. "Sweet Pea. He's right."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't listen in on my conversations, Topaz," he sighed.

"And, I'd appreciate it if you didn't shit talk the Serpents for a quick buck, _Jones,_ but we can't always get what we want," she replied cheerfully.

"I am sorry about that, Toni. I had no right to write the Serpents the way I did. Not when you guys had my back for so long," he said. She waved him off.

"Forget it, Jughead. It's fine," she replied. "We'll ease up on hating you too much."

By her tone he knew he was forgiven, and he smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Toni."

"Now, back to what Sweet Pea said: work things out with Betty," she said.

"It's not as simple as that," Jughead muttered, but she shook her head.

"No, it _is_ that simple. However, I'll bite. Why isn't it, according to you?" Toni asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"We didn't talk for seven years, Toni. I told her I didn't want a relationship after everything in high school. She fought for us; you know? And, I told her I just didn't fucking care. Then, we don't talk for seven years and all of sudden we're back in Riverdale and Betty was kidnapped and no one knew. Polly is dead and it's just a nightmare. I don't know how to help her," he whispered.

"Yeah you do, Jug. You're just being a dickhead," Toni murmured. "You're scared of getting hurt again."

He shook his head. "That's not it, T. I'm scared of _her_ getting hurt again. She was tortured for two weeks and _no one knew._ She didn't have an emergency contact and, yeah I've been lonely at different points in my life, but it's never been that type of loneliness. To feel like you don't want or need an emergency contact. And, I'm so _fucking_ angry because I didn't swallow my pride sooner. If I had, there's a chance I'd have been the contact."

"You told Betty yesterday to stop carrying the weight of her guilt on her shoulders," Toni said softly. "Take your own advice, Jug, and maybe the two of you can shoulder your guilt together. I think it'll help you guys come back from this." She squeezed his shoulder gently before walking towards Archie, accepting the plate of food he handed her.

Jughead sighed, fingers itching for a cigarette if he couldn't have a drink, and he quietly checked his coat pockets, grabbing his crumpled pack of Marlboros. Taking them outside, he lit one, letting it dangle between his lips as he leaned over Betty's apartment rail. The sound of the door opening and closing softly had him looking over his shoulder, softly smiling the next moment. "Hey, Betts."

She crinkled her nose at his cigarette, and he laughed. "I should state a statistic about how those kill or something but there are worse ways to die."

Her voice was quiet, laced with pain and he pulled her into his side, laying his head on top of hers'.

"Not your fault, honey," he whispered, knowing she was thinking about Polly.

"I-I wondered if she cried for my mom or myself in the last few moments," Betty said, voice wavering, and Jughead's heart clenched as he shut his eyes.

"Betty," he breathed into her hair. "You _cannot_ do this to yourself. You cannot worry or wonder about the what-ifs. You will only end up hurting yourself more than you already are."

"I feel fucking crazy, Juggie. Fucking crazy," she said quietly. "I keep going over the last conversation Pol and I had; how I should have handled myself better. I hurt her and.."

He turned and captured her face when her voice broke because he couldn't _not_ do something in response to her pain.

"You listen to me very carefully, Betty," he said, eyes staring into hers' intently. "What happened is not your fault. Just because you said things you're not proud of does not mean Polly thought you didn't love her. The fault lays on TBK and him alone. You hear me?"

Betty exhaled shakily as she nodded.

"I hear you," she breathed, closing her eyes, and pressing her forehead against his. "I hear you."

"Good," he murmured, pulling back to look at her for a moment. His mind was filled with images of him climbing into her window for the first time when they were sixteen and how it had ended with him kissing her. Swallowing, he watched as she watched him, seeming to understand the unspoken question. She nodded, as she closed the small amount of space between them and brushed her lips across his. He cradled her face more firmly but always just as gentle in his hands, kissing her back in kind.

When they broke apart, Jughead was the first to open his eyes meaning he got to take in Betty's reaction. Her lips were parted, and face flushed. She looked deliciously warm as her lashes fluttered against her skin before her eyes slowly opened and she met his tender look.

"No running now?" Betty whispered.

"No running," he murmured, locking their fingers as he walked with her back into the apartment and sat down on her couch as they had more food and coffee sent their way. Catching Sweet Pea's eye, he smiled at his friend who smiled back before turning back to a conversation with Fangs and Kevin.

He didn't know what the coming days would hold but he knew, somehow, they'd be okay. All of them. It was enough to ease his worries for now.

**Author's note:** I just realized this has been what could maybe be considered a slow burn? So, uhm, here's Bughead's first kiss for you guys. Enjoy! Xxx


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** What's up you lovely witches? Here with another chapter. I will _try_ to get another one out by tonight but that is a big try. I have to be an adult today and pay taxes. Fun times. Never grow up kids. I grew up at a fairly early age because I was forced to (product of a divorced family is fun), so uh, it's a trap. Being an adult. Like, shit. I can't cook. I keep losing too much weight due to that fact. And, apparently coffee and cigarettes aren't a proper diet. Hah, who knew? Not me. Anyways, without further ado, enjoy! Xxx (Song choice here: Days by The Drums. Is it a good choice for this particular chapter? Nah. It's just a really fucking good song).

Jughead watched as Betty wrung her hands together, lower lip trapped between her teeth as she paced back and forth. He could feel Sweet Pea's eyes on him, wondering when he had gotten accustomed to knowing how to pick out when the taller was looking at him, and turned to spot the friendly (to those loyal to him) giant staring at him before tilting his head towards Betty. Understanding what he was saying, Jughead nodded and beckoned him forward as well, knowing she'd respond better to the both of them right now.

"Betts?" Jughead asked gently, placing a soft hand on her shoulder so he didn't startle her.

Betty turned to him, green orbs shining with ever-present anxiety. "Juggie. I can't do this. I _can't._ "

Her voice, much like her body, was trembling and Jughead knew she was well on her way to a panic attack. He hadn't had to help her deal with those in the past seven years, but he wasn't a fucking idiot; he knew she had them regularly since being out of one another's lives. He may not have been there for her _then,_ but he was here for her _now_ and he would be damned if he let her unravel and throw away all her progress in front of him without having a say in the matter. He caught her hand gently before she could pierce her own skin and clutched it at his heart, holding steady eye contact.

"Feel my heartbeat, honey," he murmured, watching her. "Feel it and match yours' to it. Just like in high school. Just like in the Blue and Gold."

Something flickered in her eyes in recognition and a soft smile played at her lips. He smiled in response as she started breathing in time to his heartbeats. "Yeah, hon, just like that. Good girl."

He remembered how, late at night with him thrusting into her and her pulling on the restraints wrapped around her wrists, she'd preen as he praised her for being his good girl. How her body would arch right before her mouth fell open into a silent scream, followed by her whispering his name like a reverent prayer. He knew how to calm her down from a panic attack right now with just two words.

He pressed his forehead towards her, ignoring Sweet Pea and everyone else for the moment, his sole focus on the blonde as she relaxed in his arms. When he felt that she was out of the danger zone, he made her meet his eye contact by placing a warm palm to the back of her neck and tilting her gaze towards his. "Now, we're going to go talk to Alice and you're going to tell her about your abduction, alright? You have everyone in this room with you. We'll help you ladies get through it."

Betty swallowed and nodded.

"Okay," she whispered, nodding once more. "Okay."

XXX

Pulling up to the Cooper household, everyone climbed out of their respective cars – reminding Jughead of a funeral procession. He winced at that thought, knowing they needed to organize the funeral for Polly sooner rather than later. He laced his fingers through Betty's, urging her forward with a gentle tug on her hand. Squaring her shoulders, she headed inside her home, everyone else following behind her. Jughead knew she was worried about how Alice would be, having been left by herself for the past two days – admittedly, Jughead was worried as well but now was not the time nor place to voice those concerns.

As she pushed open the front door, he took in the Cooper house. Still as immaculate as ever which was… _odd_. He thought Alice would not be looking after things. It was at that moment that he caught sight of fiery as sin red hair and turned to spot Cheryl coming out of the kitchen with a sandwich and coffee on a tray. Cheryl paused, taking in Betty, Jughead, the Serpents, and Archie and Ronnie with a surprised expression. Schooling her features, she turned to look at Betty, speaking in an oddly gentle tone that no one would ever expect from Cheryl Blossom except maybe Toni.

"Betty, I'm so sorry," the redhead murmured. "I'm _so_ sorry. Polly loved you and she was – whether she proved it lately or not – was a good mother to her and JJ's children."

Betty stood, shell-shocked as she looked at Cheryl. It was Toni who spoke up eventually.

"Cher, what are you doing here?" Toni asked.

"I may be tucked away at Thornhill but even I still hear things," Cheryl murmured. "I heard about Polly and knew Betty would most likely be with all of you and Alice needed someone, so she wasn't lonely either. Trust me, I know how that feels. Anyways, I've been here the past two days. Since Nana Rose isn't…well enough to be on her own, I've placed her in your old room Betty. I hope you don't mind."

Everyone watched as Betty studied Cheryl with bated breath. Cheryl Blossom had always been like a pipe bomb – one second away from either going off and destroying everything in her path or being diffused. Her infiltrating the Cooper house without invitation might be enough to cause Betty to lash out. Betty shook her head softly, walking towards Cheryl and pulled the tray out of her hands, setting it down on the side table in the hallway before pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Cheryl, _thank you_ ," Betty's voice didn't break as she hugged her cousin. "Thank you so much."

Cheryl nodded, murmuring something into Betty's ear and Betty pulled back eventually, scrubbing a hand over her face as she nodded in return. Then, in a quiet voice, "where's my mom?"

"Laying in her bed. She hasn't got out of it and I've just been making sure she eats something small at least twice a day," Cheryl replied quietly, and Betty smiled gratefully.

"Thank you," Betty said again, before looking towards the stairs. "I should go up there." She turned to look at Jughead who nodded.

"Yeah, of course I'll go up there with you," he said, and she sighed in relief; he knew she was in no rush to be telling her mother about her abduction and the least he could do was be with her while she did. More importantly, he _wanted_ to be with her. She wasn't on her own; not anymore. And, he was through letting her slip through his fingers. The two of them left everyone downstairs after Betty had taken the tray off Cheryl's hands and climbed the stairs with Jughead's hand a permanent fixture on the small of Betty's back. He could feel her tension and paused just outside of Alice's room, turning her towards him.

"You can do this, Betty, and I'll be right next to you while you do," he promised firmly, cupping her cheek, and tracing her jawbone with the pad of this thumb. Chewing her lip, she nodded.

"I can do this," she affirmed resolutely before knocking on her mothers' door softly, pushing it open a moment later. "Mom?"

Jughead took a look around the room, taking inventory. The shades were drawn, and tissues were in every available space. He sighed softly. Alice Cooper may not have ever been a favorite of his, (Sisters of Quiet Mercy coming to mind), but he didn't wish this upon her, either. Never _this_.

"Betty?" Alice croaked before clearing her throat. "And, Jughead?"

"Hey, Ms. Cooper," he said softly. "We're here to check on you."

Alice nodded, face crumpling before she wailed, causing Betty to hurriedly pass off the tray to Jughead and fly to her mother, wrapping her in her arms as she rocked her.

"She's _g-gone_ , Betty!" Alice cried, tearing at Jughead's heart. Betty nodded, tears pouring down her face as well.

"I know mom, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Alice gulped for air for a moment and Betty just rubbed her back as Jughead handed her the box of tissues. When the Cooper monarch had finally regulated her breathing, she turned to Betty.

"You said something about the FBI tracking this killer before Polly – Polly died," she whispered, voice cracking and Betty nodded.

"Yeah, TBK, as he's been going by, has been someone we've been hunting for months," she said, pausing to bite her lip.

"What? Is there more?" Alice asked, looking at her daughter through red rimmed eyes.

"Mom…," Betty trailed off, looking at Jughead who nodded.

"Go ahead, baby," he murmured.

"I got a lead on TBK about four months ago and I, uhm, chased after it. It led me to going into his lair without backup and I, well, I got kidnapped in the process. Held hostage for two weeks," she said voice quiet. There was a moment of silence as Alice registered everything Betty had just said before wrapping her daughter in her arms.

"Thank God you're okay," she breathed. "Thank _God._ "

"What? No, mom. It's…I think it's my fault that Polly was his latest target," Betty said sadly, and Jughead's heart twisted because he had an inkling Betty was holding that type of guilt and he didn't know how to make it go away. _He didn't know how._

Alice swallowed a sob before capturing her only remaining child's face in her hands, forcing her to look at her directly. "You _listen_ to me, Betty. What happened to Polly was unfair and inhumane but not your fault. What happened to _you_ was also just as inhumane. This sadistic bastard is the only person to blame. And, I know for a fact you'll catch him, but don't you dare get hurt again in the process. I couldn't survive it if you did."

Jughead cleared his throat. "Don't worry, Ms. Cooper. We – I – won't let anything happen to her. Not again."

He watched as Alice studied him, lip trembling, before nodding. "Take care of my baby, Jughead. She's all I have left now."

He swallowed the painful lump in his throat. "Yes ma'am."

**Author's note:** Shorter chapter than normal but hope you like it, nonetheless! And, that's how I saw best to introduce Cheryl. I'll be incorporating Choni in slowly, but they'll be here eventually! Xxx


	9. Chapter 9

Betty and Emma were conversing in hushed tones, talking about the latest update they had on TBK, when a knock came at the door. Jughead looked up, wondering who it would be, when Emma spoke up.

"Nick is here," she said, never looking at anyone else in the room. "Just texted me."

Jughead nodded and walked to the door, opening it to spot a man around his height, stocky, with glasses resting on his nose that reminded Jughead of his own that he wore when writing. Nick's, however, seemed to be permanent.

"Nick Peterson, at your service," he said, grinning. "Well, at Betty and Emma's services as they're my superiors. You guys…are an added bonus, I guess."

Jughead didn't know what to make of his statement so just nodded. "Uh, Jughead Jones."

Nick looked at him for a moment, a look of recognition in his eyes. "Didn't recognize you without the beanie, Jughead. Nice to meet you."

Did – does – Betty have a picture of him at Quantico? Not sure what to make of _that_ either, Jughead stepped aside to let Nick into the apartment, eyeing the smirk the other man wore. _He knows something._

Just then, Betty spoke up. "Nick, tell me you brought things from my cubicle."

"Oh, you're after your mug," Nick said knowingly. "Yes, I did bring that. Can't have you without it for too long." Pulling said mug out of his long coat pocket, Jughead watched as Betty laughed lightly, accepting the mug, and reading what was written on it.

"I had a good laugh when I found this," she murmured, showing it to Jughead, who snorted when he read it.

_My pussy likes your pussy._

"Really, Betts?" Jughead asked, and she shrugged.

"What? I'd like to think I'm the type of cat mom that wants her baby to have friends," she teased, eyes twinkling and, he'd take it over them looking dull and lifeless any day. Sweet Pea let out a belly-rumbling laugh as he too read the mug.

"Should get somethin' like that for Toni," he mused.

"Something like what?" Toni piped up, walking into the room and over to the small group. Reading the mug, she busted out laughing. "Too fucking good."

After everyone had their turn reading and laughing at the mug, Betty placed it in her kitchen cabinet that held all of her other coffee mugs before coming back into the living room and looking at Nick. "What do you have for me, Peterson?"

Nick nodded. "Glen fucked up royally. His ass is on the line right now with _his_ superior for not taking your call about TBK seriously when the first victim showed up. He's being railed by James because Polly could have been avoided." His tone was quiet and respectful. Betty nodded.

"Yeah, she could have," she murmured, before turning to Emma. "I think you're right. We're going to need to lure TBK out somehow. We don't know where he's set up in Riverdale right now or if he's still on the outskirts."

Jughead felt his blood run cold. "Lure him out? _Lure_ him out? Who will be doing the luring?"

He didn't give a single fuck about how desperate he sounded with his question. Not a single one. Betty sighed, looking between Emma and Nick.

"Typically, it'd be me," she said, holding up a hand automatically as everyone but her two colleagues went to protest. "However, it didn't work in my favor last time I went in without backup and that wasn't even a planned trap on the agency's part. So, I think it'll be both Emma and I who do it, with Nick setup with his equipment walking us through the actual take down."

Jughead didn't like that answer. Neither, did it seem, Veronica.

"No offense Betty, but what the fuck?" Veronica snapped. "You can't do that!"

Betty sighed, as if she had expected that answer, and turned to look at the other woman. "Veronica. This man, in some twisted game, has made me his target twice now. First, with my abduction; second with Pol's death. He's got a vendetta. Playing a game of cat and mouse that he ultimately thinks he will win. He won't."

Veronica sighed in frustration. "Right, but what if he _does_ win? What if you become his latest victim in his string of murders?"

Betty smiled sadly. "Ron, I've already been a victim for him. Twice. It won't happen again. I won't let it."

"We won't," Emma broke in, eyeing everyone in the room. "Believe it or not, I know how to handle a gun and be a good partner."

Veronica opened her mouth to spit out another response, but Sweet Pea beat her to it.

"Who'll be watching all three of your guys' backs?" Sweet Pea asked, voice curious.

Emma, Nick, and Betty looked between each other as if they hadn't considered it and Jughead pretended like he wasn't offended on behalf of that.

"We will, Sweet Pea. The Serpents. Archie and Ronnie if they want to," he said simply, leveling Betty with a look as she went to protest. "I've told you – we have all told you – you're not alone anymore. Stop pushing us away. Please." She snapped her mouth shut and nodded, before looking at Veronica and Archie.

"Try to keep me out of the game, I dare you, Betty," Veronica said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Archie nodded. "You and Polly both deserve justice. We got your backs, guys. Let us protect them."

"God, I love good people," Nick said quietly. "Okay, so, I was able to hack into the computer at TBK's apartment which, surprisingly, I didn't think he had. I thought he just lived in his lair like some creepy fuckwad. Anyways. His firewalls were lacking disturbingly so and what I found was even more…disturbing."

"What was it, Nick?" Betty asked, looking at her colleague who had a look of apprehension on his face.

"Betty, did you leave your apartment unlocked before you were taken?" Nick asked cautiously and she shook her head.

"No," she replied slowly. "Why?"

Sighing, he seemed to be weighing his words with care. "It seems like either someone who knows our killer or our killer himself…placed, uh, cameras into your apartment."

It was quiet for a solid minute as everyone took in that startling announcement. Betty finally found her voice.

"Where were the cameras?" Betty asked, voice calm but Jughead saw her hands twitching.

"One in your bedroom and one in your living room," Nick replied. "None in the bathroom and I checked your shower as well."

Betty nodded appreciatively as she mulled his words over. "Makes sense those were the two places either TBK or his maybe accomplice would have put them."

"Why?" Sweet Pea asked, voice filled with quiet fury.

"Only two places I ever had nightmares when I slept," she said, voice distant as if thinking about something. "Bet he got a kick out of watching me wake up from said nightmares."

"What do you want from us, Betty?" Emma asked, tone quiet and gentle. Betty looked at her.

"Make sure we have someone on my mom's house," she said. "Make sure someone is outside at all times while I figure out if TBK has started a game of stalking me on the side while still torturing other women."

Emma nodded and looked at Nick, who hummed and typed something into his phone. "I just sent the okay to the team Emma organized before she left in-case we, _you_ , needed them here. They'll be leaving no later than this afternoon and will be here late tonight. We'll have them in plain clothes and outside your mom's house."

As all of this was happening, Jughead found himself watching Betty, body vibrating in anger and, shit, fucking _fear_ for her. The killer, or, worse, someone working for the killer, had been in her apartment. When she was in the hospital most likely and had placed fucking cameras inside of it. They had access to her in a place she should have felt safe. And, fuck. Suddenly it was too much. The fact that Betty nearly died, the fact that Polly _did_ die; everything. He couldn't breathe. _Fuck_.

"Stay with me, Jones," a low voice sounded in his ear and he spotted Fangs standing next to him. "It's scary as shit, I know. To know Betty and everything she went through. But she fucking survived. She keeps surviving. And, she's got all of us now. But more importantly, she's got you. So, don't breakdown. Not yet." Jughead nodded as he felt Kevin come up to him, staring at Betty, too.

"She'll be okay," Kevin promised. "We'll all make sure of it. But she's gonna need you to hold it together because ultimately, she's gonna break. And then, you can break with her and you two can begin to heal the way you need and deserve. I wasn't the conductor of the Bughead train for nothing in high school. You two love the fuck out of each other and are too stubborn to deal with it right now. So, hold it together, help her solve this, and then breakdown and deal with everything else when it's all said and done."

"You sure you're not a writer?" Jughead asked, voice half strangled as he attempted to infuse humor into the dire situation they all found themselves in. Kevin chuckled.

"Leaving that to you, Hemingway," he promised.

Jughead nodded, inhaling, and exhaling a few times before nodding again. "Okay. I'm good."

"Good," Fangs replied quietly. "Keep it that way for now and break when it's you and Betty. Trust me, you two don't need or want an audience for that."

Jughead jerked his head in acknowledgment of his words before walking towards Betty, who hadn't appeared to witness their conversation. At least, that's what he thought until she wrapped her pinkie around his without looking up from the computer Nick was at, murmuring a soft, "they make you feel better, Juggie?"

He exhaled. "Yeah. We have a lot to talk about – a lot that I need to reassure myself about. Mainly that you're still here and safe."

Betty hummed, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere. No one is taking me down without a fight."

"No one is taking you down at all," he hissed in response, heart turning to stone at the thought alone. She chuckled softly.

"Yeah, baby," she murmured. "They're not. You and I both won't let them."

"No, we sure as shit won't. Anyone who tries will have a fucking knife lodged in their throat," he agreed, finally feeling some of the anxiety he felt since the conversation had started abate. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips when no one was looking and, judging by the look on her face, she didn't object. He still checked. "That okay?"

"Yeah baby, it's okay," she smiled. "I know it'll take a long time for us to get back to who we once were, but I have hope. I always had _hope_."

Remembering what she said about him being the reason she fought to stay alive, his heart thudded in his chest as he brought a shaky hand up to her cheek, cupping it. "You're so fucking brave, Betty Cooper. And, I'm gonna be the man you used to love once more. I promise."

"And, I'm gonna be the girl you used to love, too," she insisted.

"I never stopped," he whispered. "Not for a minute." Then, he cleared his throat, looking at the room. "We should take a break and get dinner."

"Yes! Dinner!" Nick said in approval. "You guys have Thai here?"

Betty laughed. "Sorry, Nick. No Thai."

"Well, what the fuck."

 **Author's note:** Look at me! Did end up getting out that second chapter after all. Might not have an opportunity to write one tomorrow after work because I have to finish said taxes (potentially, depending on an answer I get). If there isn't one tomorrow, I'm sorry! Feel free to yell at me. (JK, please don't do that. I'm a very sensitive little bean). Enjoy! Xxx


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note** : Couple of things here: one: I am fucking exhausted. I got three hours of sleep last night total. Two: I just wrote a post for my personal blog that was a bit draining mentally. I do have a personal blog and it's very dear to me even though I just started it a few short weeks ago. If anyone wants it, just let me know. Don't mind sharing it. That being said, none of you need to feel obligated to ask for it. Will not be offended! Now that's out of the way, here's an update. It'll be angst. Sorry. Also, sorry if there are more typos in it in than normal. I'll proofread of course, but again, check that exhausted box. I will pass out here soon.

The day that they knew was coming but still avoided the topic of as much as they could finally descended upon them like a tidal wave: Polly Cooper's funeral. No one was quite sure how to accept the fact that they were saying goodbye for the last time and everyone seemed to be aware of it. There was a silence that permeated Betty's apartment as everyone got ready and, to Jughead, death had never seemed so final. He knew once the casket had been lowered into the ground and the earth covered it once more, that was that. She was gone.

Exhaling a shuddering sigh, Jughead sat on Betty's bed as Betty stood in front of her closet, staring unseeingly at the dress hanging on the door. He didn't know what to say to her; didn't know if there was anything _to_ say. Her childhood father was dead – not The Black Hood – but the dad who taught her how to ride a bike and fix cars; and now Polly was gone, too. Fred Andrews, who had been like a second dad to them all, was also an impact that hit her full throttle. He knew today was going to be a day of many emotions. He just didn't know where she was currently sitting on that spectrum.

As if sensing his inner questioning, she spoke up in a voice devoid of emotion. "I'm numb, Jughead. _Numb_. I don't think that's ever happened before. It's like I had pushed out all coherent thoughts of her fucking death to prolong facing it for as long as I could and now…" she trailed off with a cold laugh and he winced but stood up from the bed, walking towards her regardless. Wrapping his arms around her waist loosely so she wouldn't feel caged in, he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"What, baby?" Jughead murmured, wanting, and needing her to open up to him the way she did about her kidnapping. She was able to share every horrific, painful, and gory detail about that; he needed her to share the emotions she was feeling now, too.

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

It was said quietly in a voice that was all but not Betty Cooper's. It was a voice that had shouted itself raw from the pain it felt. Jughead pressed a kiss to her temple, not knowing the words to say to fix this; not knowing if he would say them if he did know them. Death couldn't be fixed and sometimes, not saying something, spoke more comfort than saying broken fragments disguised as gentle, but broken, platitudes. Eventually Betty stepped out of his embrace and walked towards the dress, sliding it over her bra and pantie set, before turning her back to him.

"Will you please zip me up?" Betty asked softly, and he nodded, walking towards her, and gently sliding her golden tresses over her shoulder so they wouldn't get caught in the teeth of the zipper. Sliding the zipper into place, he traced the pads of his fingertips against her smooth skin that was exposed by the scoop neckline of her dress.

"I just want to say, I'm here for whatever you need from me today," he said softly. "Whether or not that's to keep you from a quiet struggle or to just sit next to you silently while you cry, I'm here."

His words, sometimes eloquent, sometimes not, always did seem to come from the heart when he was speaking to her. He knew the truth they merited at the least. Betty turned in his arms, looping her own around his shoulders as she laid her head against his chest.

"Right now, I just need to hear your heartbeat, okay?" Betty asked slowly. "To know that you're at least still here and I'm not trapped in a nightmare on my own." Ear on his chest, Jughead pressed a kiss to the crown of her head as his eyes stung with unshed tears. He would cry at the funeral, with everyone else, and on his own with Betty; but right now, this was her moment of reassurance. She needed to know he meant when he constantly said he was here, and he wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't cry and take away her safety in the moment. He would share her pain and cry with her together at the funeral later on.

"It's beating. Right here, for you. A reminder that my promise is and forever more, something I stand by," he said quietly. "I'm not letting you go. You're not going to be forced to grieve on your own."

She sniffled quietly and, again, he blinked back his own tears but when she drew back, they both wore smiles, slightly wobbly, it was true, but there, nonetheless.

XXX

The Serpents drove their motorcycles to the cemetery first, followed by Emma, Nick and the team they called out. Betty had wanted her FBI agents there in a sign of respect for another victim that had fallen. Archie and Ronne arrived after them, and finally, Jughead, Betty, Cheryl, Alice, and Nana Rose, who Fangs had quietly offered to wheel towards the front of the grave. The minister was there – someone Tabitha Tate had called – and Jughead heard Betty gasp as she realized all the people in attendance.

Pop and Tabitha Tate; Juniper and Dagwood being held by Sweet Pea and Toni respectively; Ethel Muggs; Kevin and what looked to be half of their old Drama Club; and countless others from their formative years and who even appeared to be some of the acquaintances Betty had made in Washington. Smiling softly, Jughead nodded at the look in Betty's questioning eyes.

"We, all of us, reached out to people who either knew Polly personally or knew her through you or Alice," he said quietly. "They wanted to pay their respects. All of them."

Her lower lip trembling, Betty stared at the group of people once more, eyes shining with tears as a girl walked up to her, arms held out. "Hey, Betty, good to see you, roomie."

"Diana," Betty laughed wetly. "How's _New York Times_?"

"Be better if I had my best roommate ever with me," she said, chuckling softly. "But you're busy kicking ass and taking down the bad guys, so that's a win, too."

"Mom," Betty turned to Alice. "You remember my roommate from college."

"Diana, good to see you dear," Alice replied softly.

"I wish it was under better circumstances, Ms. Cooper," Diana said, smiling sadly before stepping back to let other people get the chance to talk to the two women before taking their seats as the funeral started. Jughead wrapped his arm around Betty's shoulder and tucked her into his side as different people spoke about Polly; Veronica and Cheryl being two of them. Betty was asked if she wanted to speak but she shook her head, murmuring something about how she'd have her turn later. Alice was crying too hard to speak so just stood by the casket and lowered her rose first, followed by everyone else, finally reaching Betty, who placed a kiss on her index and middle fingers, before laying them down on the coffin.

"Love you big sis," she murmured. "Rest easy. I'll look after mom and the kids. You go be happy with Jason, now."

Her voice cracked and Jughead kissed her hand that was in his as they walked away.

"You did good baby, you did so good. She'd be proud of you," he murmured.

"Thanks, Juggie," she choked out, and he wrapped her in his arms, waving off people, knowing she didn't want a huge audience right now. It was just the group at the apartment and Emma and Nick surrounding her now, Alice having left with Cheryl earlier on.

"You're gonna be okay, Coop," Sweet Pea said, gently disengaging her from Jughead's arms to wrap his tall frame around her. She nodded into his chest.

"I know," she said, voice catching, and turning, and breaking before she wailed. "It just fucking _hurts_ so _fucking much._ She didn't deserve this. She didn't do anything w-wrong!" Screaming into his chest, Betty punched her fist lightly against him, but he didn't waver; stood strong and let her get out her frustrations.

"Cry for as long and as loud as you need," Sweet Pea urged. "Just, don't close off from everyone again. Don't you fucking dare."

Taking in gulping breaths of air as he passed her over to Jughead once more, Betty let herself be rocked in Jughead's arms as he whispered sweetly in her ear; never telling her to hush or to slow down; just to remember to breathe. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay. We're going to make sure of it."

She nodded, gaining her composure steadily before exhaling a final time. "Can we go to Pops? I don't want to go home and get in bed where I'll only pretend to sleep this early."

Jughead nodded. "I called ahead to Tabitha and she said she's saved some booths just in case. Everything is paid for."

"Oh no, that's okay," Betty tried to protest but Emma cut in quietly.

"Nick and I are treating everyone this time, Betty," she said. "To thank you for the last dinner. We want to."

Betty nodded, swallowed, and shook her head once more, before smiling smally. "Let's go, then."

 **Author's note:** My bad, not as angsty as I originally thought. But I got up in my own feels about my Gram's funeral back in May and to save myself from a full-on breakdown, I wrote as much angst as I could handle. Hope you guys enjoy it, nonetheless. (This is also not the breakdown I keep hinting at between Betty and Jughead. That is coming. Hopefully will be more angst filled and heartfelt for the two of them than this little chapter was!) XX


	11. Chapter 11

After Polly's funeral, Jughead got the impression that Betty and her fellow agents were ready to be as proactive towards catching TBK as they could because they hit the ground running and hit the ground running _hard._ Betty and Emma would stay up late several nights in a row, pouring over all the information they had while Nick kept a steady supply of coffee in the coffee pot. The agents who were assigned to watch Alice made sure to stay in plain clothes and more than once, Betty's phone would ring, she'd look at it and silence it just as quickly. Jughead was curious as to who was calling, (although, he thought he had a pretty good idea), and it was Toni who finally brought it up.

"Glen?" The petite woman asked, stomach as round and protruding as ever.

Betty sighed but nodded. "Yeah, wants to know when I'm coming home and if I'm bringing his agents back with them."

Emma snorted. "First of all, Glen is not _my_ superior. I work for a different person altogether. And, I don't think I want to head out just yet. Riverdale isn't all too bad." She looked at Sweet Pea, who had a grin he was trying to hide subtly. The two of them had been talking ever since Sweet Pea got her number; had planned a date for the falling weekend as everyone thought it was a good idea to take a much-needed reprieve from the investigation. Naturally, Betty tried to put up a counter argument towards _that_ idea, but Jughead shot her down, telling her that she needed sleep and food and the investigation, "will still be there after the weekend, Betty." She had eventually agreed and the two of them were going to send everyone home at the end of the evening that night, leaving them to it just being the two of them in her apartment once more.

"Okay, guys," Nick said, and Jughead looked at him, breaking out of his thoughts. "I got the videotapes if you're ready to look."

Blinking, Jughead realized his was referring to the tapes of _Betty._ The tapes that TBK had on her while she was in her own apartment and doing things by herself. Sighing, he looked at Betty, surprised to find her looking at him. "You okay with everyone looking at these?"

Betty thought about it before turning to Nick. "You said you only found tapes in my living room and bedroom, correct? Not bathroom or shower or anywhere I could be naked?"

"Yeah but you don't change in…," Nick trailed off as Betty shook her head.

"Didn't feel comfortable changing in my bedroom," she replied shortly, leaving Jughead to file the comment away for later. He'd need to find out why exactly that was.

Nick nodded. "Yeah, just in your bedroom and living room."

Betty looked at everyone else. "You guys think you can handle seeing me have some nightmares?"

Archie spoke up. "We've seen it before." His tone was gentle and understanding. Betty hummed.

"Okay, let's get them playing," she said firmly.

XXX

Turns out, it _wasn't_ just nightmares that were on the films. Sure, there were several of those on there, too many for Jughead's comfort, but there was also something that left everyone in the room seething.

"Betty, are you _sure_ you didn't forget to lock your door at any point?" Veronica demanded, voice quiet and face pale.

Betty, whose hands were shaking, shook her head. "No, Ronnie. The funny thing about being an agent? It teaches you to not let that become a habit or for you to break the habit if it's there in the first place."

Emma and Nick nodded solemnly as they too stared at what was occurring on the screen. Someone, like clockwork, entered Betty's apartment for the last two months she was in Washington at two in the afternoon and stayed there for an hour. They never did anything but sit on her couch and face the camera directly. The worst part was Toffee was nowhere to be seen during any of these hours.

"Was Toffee ever hurt or sick any of the nights you came home?" Jughead asked softly, watching the tension in the back of her spine as she stood ramrod straight. Betty relaxed a bit at the mention of Toffee.

"No, thank God," she murmured. "She always ate her food and never had any unexplained injuries so at the very least I feel confident in saying the guy didn't bother her. But, I don't know if he locked her away, either. You can enter my apartment and walk through my kitchen to get to the office – where she liked to stay while I was at work. The camera wouldn't have shown him/her at that point."

Emma, who had been quiet this whole time, finally asked a question. "What's your gut telling you, Betty?"

Chewing her lip, Betty stared at the figure for a moment longer, hand on her hip as she studied everything about them, an unreadable expression on her face, before replying. "You know what it's saying, Emma, because I think yours' is saying it, too."

Nick looked back and forth between the two of them. "Shit, you guys don't think…"

Betty sighed, running a hand through her hair as Sweet Pea spoke.

"Anyone else going to fill the rest of the class in?" Sweet Pea asked.

"They think it's Glen," Jughead said quietly, watching as Betty stared at the screen. "Don't you, Betts?"

Looking at him, she smirked softly. "Well, you're not wrong. Problem is, I can't just go around accusing a superior, _my_ superior, of being a stalker at the least and TBK at the most."

Emma was tapping her knuckles on the coffee table, staring at the screen, herself. "What's your evidence to back it up. Did you ever give him keys to your apartment?"

"No," Betty shook her head. "But we were on our own a few times. He had opportunities to get my keys and have a replica set made, drop them back off and I'd never noticed. Or, furthermore, he could have done it while I was in the hospital."

"And, _why_ do you think it's him?" Nick asked, voice quiet. "What about the person in the video makes you think that? They're in all black with a mask."

Betty nodded once more. "Nick, Glen has been to my apartment – I've slept with him," she said casually, and Nick and Emma didn't miss a beat or blink. "He, out of anyone else, would know the layout of my apartment and where to set the cameras in the first place."

"I'm not saying you're not right and that I won't have your back when it comes down to it, Betty," Emma said. "But I think we need something a bit more substantial before we go accusing a Federal Agent of being a stalker and/or murderer."

Again, Nick was watching the two of them and Jughead got the distinct impression that was how the three of them operated at Quantico. The two women making the calls and Nick following through with the execution. It made him smile slightly.

"Okay," Betty breathed. "Nick, rewind to the fourth video, would you?"

Nick hastened to do as she asked, rewinding the film, and stopping when Betty requested.

"Look, Emma, tell me what you see," Betty said. Emma studied the film, eyes – eyes trained to see more than any other non-agent in the room were capable of – and gasped quietly.

"Shit," she murmured.

"Yeah," Betty said quietly.

Nick too took a look. "Is that…?"

"Glen's tattoo, that every agent has seen at least once in the office? Yes, yes it is," Emma said, voice triumphant.

"This doesn't prove he is TBK himself, but it proves he knows him a lot more closely than he ever let on," Betty said.

"Let's see what else he is lying about, shall we?" Jughead asked.

"We've got to be smart about this," Emma cautioned, Betty nodding as well. "He cannot suspect we are on to him or it could end very badly for all of us."

Nick agreed. "Yeah, and I am not good on fieldwork. I do better behind the screen. Also, speaking of, do you guys need me to see if I can tap into his personal system?"

Betty shook her head. "Not yet. Besides, he might recognize your IP address."

"Oh, Betty, you wound me," Nick sighed. "Not working off the IP address I have with the agency. This is all my own tech. Using my own IP address for the very reason of not being followed."

They discussed tactics a bit more before everyone went their separate ways for the night, Betty telling everyone to be safe as they did so. Finally, it was just Jughead and Betty. He didn't hesitate to pull her in for a kiss. It was sweet and gentle but needed, nonetheless. Betty gasped in surprise before melting into the kiss. "How are you right now? The truth, please."

She sighed. "I'm not surprised, honestly. I had my suspicions since him not coming when the first victim was found. But – I need to find out if he's just working with TBK or if he is TBK and is actually in Riverdale."

Jughead nodded, stamping another kiss to her mouth. "I have your back. Let me guard it, okay? Don't push me away because you think you need to."

Betty agreed. "Of course. I'm really working on that."

He smiled and thanked her once more. "Okay, breakfast for dinner sound good?"

She hummed and Jughead set about making the dinner, her helping where she could. "Oh, and Jug?"

He turned from where he was frying bacon. "Yeah, hon?"

"If Glen is TBK, I will be putting him in the ground," she assured him.

"As long as I can be the one to hand you the gun for everything he's done to you," he replied, and Betty laughed a little, sound not quite as broken as it would have been only days earlier.

 **Author's note:** Shorter chapter but wanted to get this idea out there and rolling. Enjoy! Xxx


	12. Chapter 12

A **uthor's note:** Welcome back! I am back from the office for the foreseeable future so updates will be happening regularly again. A couple of you dear readers have been asking me how many chapters I think there will be and while I'm not sure about that, I do know that I have a lot more I need to add to this little fic of mine before I can even contemplate it's contemplation. So, here for a while! Enjoy! Xxx

Jughead and Betty slept in late on Saturday morning. After their breakfast for dinner, they had stayed up for a bit longer, talking about the case as minimally as possible, (Jughead's doing). He didn't want Betty to have to worry or stress when the rest of their group wasn't with her to catch her if she fell and hold her in the safety net they had all silently agreed to form for her. Yes, Jughead had acknowledged what Fangs and Kevin had said about the two of them needing to break down without an audience but Betty deserved to still feel safe with _everyone_ and he was not going to be the one to insist that they keep looking at the murder board lest she fall apart and no one else had their chance to comfort her. It wasn't fair to any member in their party.

So, after he had gently suggested some tea and a sleeping aid, as she seemed more open to them these past few days after the funeral, Betty and Jughead had gotten ready for bed and Jughead held her as she kissed his shoulder, mumbling a sleepy, "thank you for everything, Juggie," and drifted off to sleep in his arms. Her head was resting on his chest, ear on his heartbeat as was her common occurrence as of late, her reminder to herself that he was there with her. _His_ constant reminder to her was that he wasn't going anywhere, either.

Toffee was curled up between them, tail brushing his chest. It was so domestic, even if the circumstances that got them there were less than ideal, that Jughead felt himself happily anticipating the day all of this was behind them and this could just _be_ who they were. Whether that was in Riverdale, New York, or fuck, a different country altogether, Jughead didn't care. He just knew he was never letting her get away from him again. He was going to fight as hard as she did, if not more.

His name fell from her lips softly and he looked at her checking, _always checking,_ that she was okay; that she was safe. She had a sleepy smile on her lips, and he knew she was dreaming something nice – he hoped it was a favorite memory for her. She deserved that and more. Kissing her forehead, then her eyelids, and finally, her jaw, knowing the pill was strong enough not to wake her up by the feel of his lips, he smiled himself, contentment permeating his bones.

"I love you, Betty Cooper," he murmured, hating that he didn't say it while she was awake. They weren't ready for that, though, so he contented himself with being able to say it at all. The rest would fall into place one way or the other.

XXX

The next morning found Jughead and Betty agreeing to meet with everyone for a quick bite at Pops, more out of a loyalty to Tabitha Tate at this point than either one of them really wanting to drag themselves out of bed. Betty slipped into a sweater that looked comfortable as fuck in Jughead's humble opinion and leggings that hugged her hips loosely still, yes, but she had been working on gaining weight for the past couple of weeks now that Jughead wasn't going to take her, "diminished appetite", bullshit attitude laying down. It wasn't a walk in the park, but a lot of the days were easier than the ones that were a struggle.

Once they were at Pops and all seated in a few booths, Jughead slung his arm along the back of the seat, playing with Betty's sweater as she engaged in conversation with Emma and Sweet Pea, inquiring about their date and pleased with how well it seemed to go.

"Sweet Pea has a way with words," Emma said, smiling softly at the taller who ducked his head, bashful.

It was oddly endearing.

"A way with words, huh, Pea? Maybe you should have been the author," Jughead teased.

"Fuck off, Jones," Sweet Pea replied, no heat behind his words as he took a sip of his coffee. "We all know you were the one who had the gift for writing. You and Betty."

Emma cocked her head to the side, intrigued at that little fact. "Betty, you wrote?"

Veronica interrupted. "She was co-editor of the Blue and Gold, our old high school newspaper. Her and Jughead tag-teamed it. No offense, Emma, but I'm surprised you didn't know that. As, well, an agent."

Veronica didn't sound suspicious; just genuinely curious. Jughead was too, if he were being honest with himself. Emma laughed.

"Trust me, I may be an agent, but I'm not like Glen. He's the one who would have known that. Not me," she assured them. "I don't make it a habit to study who we hire. We vet them, yes, but I don't go past the normal procedures."

"I don't know about that, Em," Nick piped up, spreading jelly on his toast. "You did know a surprising amount of information about my comic collection."

Emma and Betty both snorted. " _That_ is because I needed to see how to get on your good side long enough to get invited to game night, my friend."

"Deceiving and diabolical, I like it," Nick hummed his approval before turning to Sweet Pea. "No worries about Emma and I ever having a past of sorts. One: her and Betty are like my sisters and two: I'm gay. I don't think my husband would appreciate it if I had lied to him about that."

Sweet Pea chuckled, clinking his mug with Nick's. "Words, while not needed, are appreciated all the same. Thanks, man."

"How is Steve?" Betty asked, chewing a piece of bacon before washing it down with coffee.

"He's good," Nick replied. "Wanted to come out here himself but he couldn't leave work at the moment."

Betty nodded. "Yeah, no I understand completely. It's not easy when being a CEO of your own gaming company you built from the ground up."

Nick grinned. "He's such a naughty little shit when he invents something new. I love it because I get to reap the benefits."

Everyone at the table laughed openly and Jughead was relaxed for a moment before his eyes fell on Archie, who was watching Betty with a look in his eyes he couldn't quite place. Despite his best intentions, he felt the familiar wave a pain he felt back in high school – of his insecurities and what he felt upon finding out about the kiss. Archie caught his eye, nodded, and tilted his head towards the men's restroom. Getting the hint, Jughead nodded and they excused themselves, each placing a kiss on their respective partners. Jughead would tackle the fact that he called Betty his partner in his mind when they hadn't even talked labels yet later.

Once in the restroom, Jughead leaned against the sink, arms folded as he waited for Archie to speak.

"Get out of your head, Jug," were the first words that he spoke and Jughead blinked.

"Sorry?" Jughead asked.

"I know what you're thinking right now, and you have no reason to," he said quietly. "I'm not watching her and realizing I want her back – if you can even call it that. We were never a thing. We kissed once. And I went off to war and she went on to get kidnapped and tortured."

Jughead heard the crack in his friend's voice and suddenly understood: he felt guilty. Archie Andrews would always be the town good doer. Questionable approaches, yes, but heart always in the right place.

"I'm not saying that we should have been romantically involved because her and I fully believe we would have come to resent one another and we're both happy, with you and Ronnie having forgiven us," Archie said.

"I had nothing to forgive but myself," Jughead mumbled but Archie carried on.

"What I _am_ saying, though," Archie continued. "Is had I maybe not stayed in the army for as long as I did, I would have noticed she was missing when she didn't answer my texts or calls."

Despite the fact that was something Jughead hated himself for; not being a permanent fixture in her life at the time of her abduction, he did understand the self-loathing Archie was feeling at the moment. It was unwanted and not needed.

"Arch," Jughead said, looking at his oldest friend. "I understand how you're feeling, believe me, I do. But what I do each day I want to slip down _that_ rabbit hole of guilt and self-blaming, is I remind myself that Betty Cooper is a fucking warrior who saved herself over and over again during those two weeks. Sure, the agents came and ultimately got her out, but she fought and she fucking survived. She keeps surviving." He paused to use Fangs words from the other night and let them sink in for a moment before continuing. "Don't think you need to be Archie Andrews, "best friend/hero who saves the day" when it comes to her cause she'll kick your ass for trying to protect her and I'll kick it for wanting to. That's my job." He smirked.

Archie laughed, shoulders ridding of the tension. "Yeah. You're good at that, Juggie."

Jughead grin but didn't say anything, knowing there was more that the redhead needed to ask or say.

"Are we going to be okay? I mean, will our friendship ever be what it was before Betty and I kissed?" Archie asked, tugging at his shirt. "Ronnie forgave me, and you forgave Betty, but how are you towards me?"

"Listen, Arch," Jughead said quietly. "Yes, Ronnie and I forgave you guys but you both forgave us, too. Well, I don't know if _you_ actually needed to forgive Ronnie cause I doubt she was more of a dick than I was. But, Betty forgave me too, because while you two may have kissed, she regretted cheating and tried to make amends profusely and I _just didn't care._ My pride was preventing me from really listening to the words she was speaking. Then, I left her alone for seven years. So, yeah, you two aren't the only guilty ones. Ronnie, as far as I know, may be the only innocent one."

Archie laughed. "She cursed at me in Spanish for a solid hour, ignored me for the next three, then we fucked on every available surface in her penthouse for the rest of the night when I first went and saw her. She's a goddess."

Jughead laughed. "And, now you guys are engaged. So, what I'm saying is, you and I are fine. We might not have the friendship we had then because it's paved the way to a better one, now."

Archie hugged him tightly and Jughead returned the embrace just as strongly. "Now, lets go back out there before we give Kevin any ideas."

"Jesus," Archie laughed, and they headed out of the bathroom and back into the diner, taking their seats once more. No one asked them what they had to talk about, but Ronnie did sidled herself up closer to Archie and Betty tucked herself underneath Jughead's arm, kissing the corner of his lips gently.

"Everything okay?" Betty asked quietly, taking a bite of her eggs.

"Yeah, baby," he replied, ducking to press a chaste kiss to her lips as everyone else engaged in conversation with each other. "Everything's good. We're good."

 **Author's note:** So, I wanted to touch base on how I felt about Archie and Jughead in my story. I don't care what's going on in Riverdale. I mean, I still watch it – only cause they're aged up now. But, shit, still fucking it up Roberto. I need to watch last week's ep. Anyways, this was my take on the pair of them and I wanted this bit of lowkey pain out of the way before I bring in the collapse of Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones. (Only in the sense that they're going to be having a talk about it all. I will not hurt them further than that – I can't handle it). Thoughts appreciated as always! Xxx


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:** Am getting this chapter out on my lunch so forgive me if there are excessive mistakes as I only have an hour to write, edit, and upload. Enjoy some much-needed fluff!

"I want to take you out on a date," Jughead said, and he watched as Betty blinked.

"Sorry?" Betty asked, tilting her head to the side.

So, yeah, he _maybe_ could have approached that differently and less abruptly, but still, he wasn't taking it back. He smirked. "You heard me, Cooper."

"Uh, to Pops?" Betty asked, curiosity piqued. He didn't blame her for jumping to that conclusion as there really wasn't anywhere else to go eat at in Riverdale, but he still continued to smirk, shaking his head.

"Nope," he replied. "We're going to Greendale where I _know for a fact_ that they have a Thai restaurant there."

Her eyes lit up and he grinned, happy to see her look so…adorable and ecstatic in that moment.

"Juggie!" Betty laughed, happy at the prospect of proper Thai food. "Are you sure? I know…I know…" Betty trailed off, seeming unsure of how to voice her concern about his monetary problems. He shook his head softly, kissing her forehead.

"I've got checks going to those goons regularly and have still managed to save up for some side spending. It's okay. Let me do this for you; for _us_. We deserve it," his voice was soft in his reply, and she sighed happily as she nodded.

"Okay," she smiled. "I would love to go on a date with you."

Her excitement over the prospect took him back seven years ago. Back to when they still felt like they had things to get excited about and he found himself matching her grin. Kissing her gently, languidly, and all-consuming, he breathed in Betty Cooper, an intoxication all by herself. "Good baby." Brushing her lips once more, (and, reveling in the fact that kissing each other was just something they _did_ once more – no questions or permission needed) before he pulled back. "Let's go."

XXX

He had taken his bike out of storage for the date, wanting the date to feel like their older ones. Hearing Betty's musical laughter as he took turns, her body pressed up against his as she leaned with him around the corners, he grinned maniacally. For the first time in too fucking long, they were both utterly and unapologetically happy. Fuck denying it.

Pulling up to the restaurant he had had Fangs and Kevin look into for him, he parked his bike, letting Betty get off first and following suit a moment later. Clasping their hands together, he ran his thumb in mindless circles against the back of her palm as they made their way into the dining establishment, noting how cozy and quiet it looked immediately upon entrance.

"This place is lovely," Betty murmured, and he squeezed her fingers gently in response to her happy anticipation. "I can't wait to try the food."

Being taken to a booth in a secluded corner, Betty slid inside, Jughead not even hesitating to join her in the same seat. He wrapped his arm around her, and a soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips as a waiter walked over to ask for their drink orders. Betty ordered a green tea and Jughead got a chai, having picked up the taste for it in college at some point. Betty laughed softly at that bit of information. "Doesn't surprise me, really."

"No?" Jughead asked, looking at her. "Why is that?"

"You were never one to _not_ try something," she said fondly, tracing his cheekbone and he felt a pleasant warmth settle in his bones as the waiter came back with their drinks only to take their orders the next moment. Both being placed, he walked off again, and Betty looked at Jughead once more after he was gone. "Not that I don't love an idea of a date night with you – many date nights, in fact – but why now?"

She wasn't accusatory while asking – just sounded genuinely curious and he couldn't blame her. Every day that they had spent with one another since both being back in Riverdale had revolved around her kidnapping and then tracking down _TBK_ after Polly was found dead. "Because, Betts, we deserve it. I wasn't there for you the way I should have been during those past seven years and I have a lot of making up to do for that."

She placed her fingertips against his lips gently, stopping whatever else he wanted to say and, he _had_ more to say on the matter. "Shh, baby. We both _had_ making up to do. Do we still need to learn and grow together once more? Sure. Of course. But, what's past is past, and I want to stay in the present, with you. We made our mistakes, some worse than others, but we're growing from them _together._ All we can ask of each other."

Jughead listened to her speak, marveling at the fact that she could, at least, still see a positive future for them and he kissed her forehead, letting his lips rest against her skin tenderly. "You said you know how I saved you those two weeks?"

She swallowed as she nodded, and he continued on.

"You saved me, too," he murmured. "I threw out all the alcohol in the bunker as soon as we started talking again, even before I found out about what happened in Washington. No matter how angry I was at myself – the both of us for shit left unsaid – I didn't you want you to see me that way for another minute."

Betty trailed her fingertips against his jaw, looking at him with pride shining in her emerald orbs. "You're a good man, Jughead Jones. You may have some darkness inside of you – just like me – but you're still a good man."

He didn't miss the fact that in her compliment she fed him the same words he had told her when Hal was announced as the Black Hood. It was an odd relief to hear them, to know that even years later, she recognized his darkness – his family's darkness that he swore he would never tumble into – and she still saw him as the guy that saw _her_ not connected to her own family's sins. He cradled her face, wishing _so desperately_ to be able to say the three words that he never said to anyone else – not even Jess. But, it wasn't time for them. Not yet. Not when they still had so much more to unearth about who they were now. Instead, he just continued to hold her face in his palms like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held or be able to hold and kissed her, trying to pour every ounce of words he couldn't say for the time being.

Perhaps she understood what he was trying to convey because when they pulled apart, foreheads resting against one another's and catching their breaths, she whispered three simple words against his lips, "I know, baby."

And, he knew exactly what she meant: she loved him, too. Never stopped, either.

It was a hell of a confession and a good enough one for him. Giving her one last chaste kiss, he nodded his head, let her tuck herself underneath his arm and they spent the rest of the night eating and laughing, sharing stories over college horror days and everything in-between.

**Author's note:** Yes, way shorter than normal but hour lunch, tops. Still got to edit and eat. Would love thoughts! Xxx


	14. Chapter 14

Screaming. Screaming was what Jughead jolted awake from. Blinking his eyes rapidly as his heartbeat rang in his ears, he glanced down to spot Betty thrashing in his arms, a thin layer of sweat coating her skin. He wasn't surprised. Not really – she hadn't taken a sleeping pill for the past few days and she was, well, _due_ for a nightmare, as loathe as he was to admit it. A soft sigh escaped his lips; he wasn't annoyed with her, never with _her_ – just with the situation she was in. He was tired of the world hurting one Betty Cooper.

"Hon," he said softly, gently shaking her shoulder. "Wake up. You're just dreaming."

He continued to talk to her in that gentle tone he adopted every time she had a nightmare; making sure to never startle her awake. Eventually, a soft gasp was issued as she wrenched her eyes open, flinging herself up and out of his arms. He pushed himself up next to her, placing a hesitant hand on the small of her back before rubbing gentle circles into her skin when she didn't react other than leaning back into his hold.

"Jug," she gasped, and he nodded.

"It's okay," he murmured. "Just focus on your breathing."

He coached her through her would be panic attack with gentle reminders to breathe. Eventually, she settled herself and leaned back into the pillows once more, running a hand down her face.

"Sorry," she muttered with a harsh laugh towards herself and he winced.

"It's okay," he said softly, biting his lip as he debated what Fangs and Kevin had said two weeks prior. About the talk they had deserved to have with one another. "You know, Betts, you never tell me what you dream about."

She looked at him sharply. "Yes I do."

He shook his head, dipping it in order to maintain eye contact once she dropped her eyes to her comforter. "No, I mean, you never tell me what they're _about_." He may have said the words in some form of the same order, but the meaning was different; clearer.

Betty hissed through her teeth, shaking her head as she got out of her bed and throwing her sweatshirt on over pajama top. "I can't, _won't_ , talk about them, Jughead. You know that." With that, she walked out of her room and he was quick to follow her, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to leave this alone; to not push her on the matter. He had to ignore it – this conversation was long past it's due date.

He followed her into the kitchen where she set about turning on the coffee at, he paused to glance on the clock on the stove, two in the morning. _Fuck._ Moving towards her, he stilled her wrists by capturing them gently in his fingers. "Betty, stop, hon. You don't need that right now."

"What I _need_ , Jughead," she snapped. "Is for you not to tell me what I do or don't need. If you could do that for me, that'd be great."

He felt himself bristle at the way she snapped at him – lack of sleep was causing him to be just as on edge as her and it didn't help that, bar the date they had last week, they hadn't had any other time to themselves. He knew tension was running high as everyone worked together tirelessly to catch _TBK,_ but Betty hadn't taken a moment to breathe properly since the date and he knew why.

Another female had gone missing. This time, from Greendale and if he knew her, she was blaming herself for not staying around long enough last week to be able to catch the killer off guard. The thought alone caused Jughead's stomach to roll. Not because he didn't think she could do it but because any means of support weren't easily accessible to her; to them. Her gun had been left at the apartment and her fellow agents, along with everyone else, weren't there. Jughead was, naturally, and of course, he wouldn't have dreamed of letting her go off on her own but even he wasn't idiotic enough to believe there wouldn't have been retribution to pay had they found out he was in the area and tracked him down sans help.

"Betty," he said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We do not need to fight right now."

She laughed but it was mirthless. "Door is right over there. Try to make sure to not let it hit you on the way out." With that, she turned back to the coffee pot, jamming it on with a punch of her index finger. At this point, Jughead was pissed. Fuck, scratch that, he was _livid_.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Elizabeth?" Jughead hissed and watched as she whirled around, staring at him.

"Excuse me?" Betty demanded.

"You fucking heard me. I, for the life of me, _cannot_ figure out why you're so hellbent on pushing me away tonight but I think, after this past month, I've earned a bit more respect than that. I've proven, I think, that I'm not going anywhere," he snapped.

She smiled at him, cold and calculating, and he recognized something he hadn't seen on her in a long time – her ability to push him away when she was trying to _protect_ him. His mind jumped back to when the Black Hood had demanded she cut ties with him or he'd take matters into his own hands. Jughead suddenly understood and interrupted her just as she opened her mouth to spew words he knew deep down that she didn't mean.

"What did you dream about, Betty?" Jughead asked quietly.

She blinked. "What?"

"Your dream. What was it about?" Jughead asked softly, patiently as he made his way towards her but stopped just shy, knowing to not touch her; not yet.

She made a noise in the back of her throat as she shook her head. "I…"

"Was I in it, honey?" Jughead's tone had transitioned back into one of gentleness and finally, she collapsed.

" _Yes_ ," she breathed.

XXX

Settling themselves onto her couch, Jughead turned towards her, holding his cup of coffee as he watched her. She was chewing her lip, lost in her thoughts before he placed his fingertips against her jaw, gently bringing her attention back to him. "You need to tell me about the dream."

She exhaled sharply but nodded, nonetheless.

"Uh, it started off much the same as my other nightmares about captivity. Except this time, about halfway through, there was a new hostage brought into _TBK's_ lair. You," she mumbled, eyes downcast. He tilted her chin up, asking her to continue with a look into her eyes. "He, he tortured you Jughead, and I couldn't do _anything_ about it. Not a fucking thing. I was drugged and tied to a chair but still able to hear your fucking _screams_ of pain. I couldn't comfort you either because he had taped my mouth shut again."

He inhaled quietly at the image she was painting. Fucking hell of a nightmare and he, not for the first time, wondered if she _should_ be talking to a therapist about her PTSD. He'd approach that topic later.

"Betty, baby, that's not something you can help dreaming," he murmured gently. "Or, help it if it happens in real life."

She shook her head. "Not an option."

Her voice was all but a growl and he knew she meant every word. He wasn't getting hurt on her watch and vice versa. It's just how their love worked. It was quiet for a few beats and then he heard soft sniffling and looked at her to find her rubbing underneath her eyes, catching the tears that were leaking from the corners of them.

"Hey," he said softly, ducking his head to try and make eye contact. "Hey, look at me, sweetheart. What's wrong?"

Her voice was a whisper of a thing when she replied. "What – what if you die in all of this? What, what if I can't protect you somehow? I _wouldn't_ be able to forgive myself. Ever."

"How long have you been worried about this?" Jughead asked softly, rubbing her arm gently.

She laughed bitterly, and he winced. "Since I've dragged you into this fucking mess in the first place!"

And that…that made him _angry_. He dropped his hand from her arm and ran it through his hair, working desperately to not lash out at her but shit. He was _angry_ due to that statement. "Okay, Elizabeth. You didn't _drag_ me into anything. I wanted to help, remember?"

"Stop calling me Elizabeth," she snapped, and he growled in frustration.

"Back to deflecting? That was something you always exceled at, after all," he laughed.

"The _fuck_ does _that_ mean?" Betty demanded in a low voice; eyebrows raised dangerously.

"I don't know," he shrugged casually, folding his arms as he stood up from the couch. "Just, I noticed that you never called anyone – me, in particular – after you were released. You didn't reach out in the hospital. And, you know, I maybe could buy you not wanting to bother anyone with that if I knew you _weren't_ a martyr, but I do. I do know that you're one." In the back of his mind, a voice piped in that he needed to take a moment to breathe; to take a moment to slow down and collect his jumbled thoughts but he was so fucking mad, he didn't bother to listen to it.

" _I'm_ the martyr?" Betty asked, standing up from the couch as well and pacing away from him. "Me? Who's the one who turned to alcohol when his relationship went to shit?"

"Who's the one who caused the relationship to go to shit in the first place?" Jughead yelled.

"Are we doing this now?" Betty demanded. "Are we really having it out right now?"

"Yeah, we are. Because, guess what, Betty? You never, not fucking _once_ , called me in the past seven years! You fought for us at first and then just stopped and then the next time I see you, you're recovering from a fucking hostage and torture situation!" Jughead cried, anger and resentment towards himself _and_ her and everyone who had ever wronged the _both_ of them all coming through to the surface, both emotions vying for the most attention that he didn't know which one to latch onto first.

"Well, _Forsythe_ ," she hissed, and he winced but didn't refute that blow because he called her by her full name she dreaded as much as he did with his own. "That's a two-way fucking street! Last time I checked, neither of our numbers changed meaning you had time to call me as well. And, guess what? You did!"

He blinked. "What."

"Yeah, buddy," she laughed coldly. "I wouldn't expect you to remember because you already sounded three glasses of whiskey in and it was only the beginning of the night. It was the night of your publishing party. You called and said, what was it? Oh, yeah. "Betty, I want to thank you for truly showing me how better off I am without you. Even though you fucked my life over in more ways than one."

"I-I didn't say that," he whispered, bringing his fist to his mouth as the anger slowly drained out of him. The issue, though? He couldn't back up that claim as he was drunk more often than not and didn't remember half the shit he had said. She chuckled.

"Need proof? Hold on," she held up a finger as she went to her purse. Pulling out her phone, she fiddled around with it before his voice filtered through the speaker and _shit_ , she was fucking right. He had said that. White-hot shame washed over him. "This. _This_ is only one of the things I thought about while held hostage, by the way."

He looked at her, shaking his head slowly. "Betty, Betty, no…"

She chuckled, wiping underneath her eyes again as she nodded sadly. "Yeah. Wasn't my first choice of your words I wanted to hear but when you're drugged, you really don't get a say in the matter."

It was quiet for a moment as they let the fight calm back down and Jughead wondered if maybe she wasn't the only one who needed therapy. If they needed to go to it together as a couple.

"Betty," he asked quietly.

"Hmm."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm sorry that during your kidnapping that you held onto any piece of me that you could remember even if it was a piece I'm so fucking ashamed of at the moment. I'm _sorry_ that we didn't stay in touch because god, if we had, I would have set the world on fire to find you," he whispered, walking towards her, and dropping to his knees, clasping her hands in his and kissing them gently, tears that he couldn't stop from falling down his cheeks making wet pathways as they went.

She lowered herself to the ground slowly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she licked her lips. "I'm sorry, too. I'm _so_ sorry I gave you a reason to leave the message in the first place. I'm sorry I cheated on you and broke your heart." Her own tears were sliding down her cheeks and she looked uncomfortable but refused to drop eye contact. They stared at each other for a moment, each taking in the other, before Jughead spoke up once more.

"I love you," he breathed. "I love you so fucking much I don't know what to do with it sometimes. And, I swear, you'll never be alone again. I will not walk away like a coward who won't stay and fix the issue."

Betty's lip trembled as she surged forward, kissing him. "I love you, too."

Then, they were kissing once more as Jughead felt the last bit of tension roll off his shoulders. Had they resolved everything with the fight and subsequent conversation? No, definitely not. But it was a conversation long overdue and it was finally a step in the right direction to moving past this. He noted he owed Fangs and Kevin a thanks. They hadn't needed an audience for that.

 **Author's note:** So, didn't want to leave the note at the beginning for the sole purpose of not wanting to announce this as being the "fallout and make-up" chapter. Hope you guys enjoy as I tried to make it as authentic and believable as I could. As always, thoughts appreciated! Xxx


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note:** New chapter. Do I _really_ know what I'm doing with this chapter? Nah, not really. Let's write it anyways and hope for the best. (Also, The Lost Ones have been updated for any of you who read that one. Needed my Sweet Pea/Betty siblings to be updated). Enjoy! Xxx

Jughead watched as Betty scrambled eggs in her skillet, taking a sip from her coffee mug with her free hand as she did so. Biting his lip, he debated on approaching a topic he had been curious about since their fight a few nights ago. Despite not wanting to call it a fight because he _had_ been living in some fucked up version of the honeymoon phase with her and _God_ , that was an awful thought to have – how could he still find the joy in all the dark madness? Shaking his head, he chewed on his thumbnail for a beat longer before working up the courage to voice what was on his mind.

"Betts?" Jughead asked quietly, voice calm to let her know he was, in no way, looking for another fight. She looked up at him, smiling softly but her eyes held a certain caution to them now and dammit, he fucking hated that. It made his resolve on seeing his idea come to fruition all the stronger in his mind.

"What?" Betty asked curiously, head tilted for a moment before she went back to her eggs, adding a sprinkle of pepper with a flick of her wrist.

He sighed as he ran a hand threw his hair, laughing dryly at himself. "Shit, this is harder than I expected. Okay, uh, what is your opinion on therapy? Not therapy for yourself but couple's therapy?" He watched as Betty paused, taking in his question for a moment as she stared down at the eggs, before looking back at him over her shoulder.

"Juggie," she said softly. "Is that something _you_ want to do?"

He expelled a breath, shrugging his shoulder. "I mean, I've thought about it. When we had our fight a few nights ago. I-I realized we, despite how much we've learned about each other now, do not know all about each other from the past seven years. I meant what I said when I said I would have set the world on fire to find you – but I didn't even know you were missing and that…that is really hurting me. More than I can understand, I think."

She turned off the stove, plating up the eggs and bacon she had fried as well, before asking him to help her carry the breakfast to her table. Sitting down, she looked at her plate pensively, seeming to think about his offer for her. "I think it couldn't hurt."

He cocked his head to the side, taking in her demeanor, noting she looked fairly certain of her words. "You sure? I mean, you don't want to go to therapy for your PTSD, baby. You fight against that pretty hard." And, he didn't mean for his words to be harsh in the slightest; he was just pointing out a fact that he thought needed to be addressed.

Betty chuckled. "Yeah, I know I could probably afford some time one-on-one with a therapist myself for all my…trauma. I _do_ know that. So, maybe, if we go see a therapist to work together on our issues we're currently facing as a couple, I can find the strength to make an appointment for myself." She paused, shoveling a forkful of eggs into her mouth as she looked at him thoughtfully. "That _is_ why you want to go to therapy, correct? To face the baggage we've left packed away?"

Jughead had to laugh at her analogy as he nodded. "That's right, sweetheart. I think it's time. If we don't like the therapist – either of us – we find a new one. That's my only request. That we're both on board with the therapist we have." He wasn't sure if that was a high demand he was making or not, but she soothed his worries almost instantly.

"Juggie, of course we both need to like the therapist if we're going to fall into a routine of some sort with them," she said softly, placing her hand over his. He automatically interlaced their fingers and smiled at her.

"Thanks, baby," he replied.

XXX

It took them a few tries to find a therapist they were both comfortable with.

The first one liked to bring up past discretions – fuck off with your overeager curiosity about Hal Cooper.

The second seemed a bit too judgmental about both Betty and Jugheads' coping mechanisms towards their grief. "Alcohol isn't the best to rely on." "Really, pal? You don't say."

The third…shit, just the fact that the woman reminded them both physically of Sister Woodhouse so much that they instantly recoiled upon meeting her and silently agreed to get through the session as quickly as possible and never come back. _Ever._

And so.

It went.

For three more.

Sessions.

Until, _finally_ , they found a nice man who seemed to be in his early forties and had a warm, all-encompassing attitude when he greeted them with a genuine smile and a, "hello, I'm Robert Doyle. Anything you guys have to say stays here – unless it poses as a safety threat. Now that introductions are out of the way, coffee?"

Fuck, yeah, Jughead approved of him and his easy demeanor.

Taking a seat on the comfortable couch in Robert's beige colored office, Jughead took a look around, smiling slightly at the light atmosphere the room projected. Pictures of what seemed to be gratified buildings in New York City hung up along the walls and Jughead nodded his head towards them. "Who's the photographer?"

"I am," Robert replied with an easy smile. "You a photographer?"

"I dabble in it," Jughead replied, staring at the pictures for a moment longer before they got down to business – introductions and why they were there, in other words. What they hoped to gain from their appointment. Robert jotted down a few notes here and there but other than that, he seemed to be more on the end of the hands-on side of the spectrum; engaging vocally with both Betty and Jughead.

"I'm very sorry to hear about your kidnapping, Agent Cooper," Robert said solemnly. "And the fact that your older sister passed tragically before her time. I want to thank you personally for working as hard as you can to catch the killer. You, too, Jughead."

They both nodded, Jughead squeezing Betty's knee in a comforting gesture so she knew that he was still there, right next to her, and wasn't leaving. Ever.

"How has those two tragedies affected your relationship? If I may ask, Jughead, have either one of them made you feel the desire to drink?" Robert asked, tone free of judgment which made it easier for Jughead to answer than he believed he would have otherwise. Jughead shook his head.

"No," he said confidently. "Out of everything, those two events transpiring have been what has pushed me to keep my sobriety. I want – _need_ – to remain clear minded for Betty while we solve this case."

Robert hummed before turning to look at Betty. "Does his response make you feel any unwanted pressure on your shoulders, so to speak?"

Betty looked startled at the question at first, before shaking her head. "No. It makes me feel proud of him. With that being said, however, I want Juggie to know that I would _never_ be upset or mad at him if he relapsed. I understand addictions and demons and how hard they are to control. I would, I like to believe, just support him through the worst of it and stand strong with him on the other side."

Robert smiled, jotting down a couple more notes as he nodded his head approvingly. "As a true partner should do. You guys wouldn't begin to believe how many partners are not able to do that. If one part of the relationship has an issue they're struggling with, a lot of the time the second partner runs before it gets them dragged into the black abyss as well; before they fall down the proverbial rabbit hole themselves."

Betty tsked. "That's fucking awful."

Her voice was indignant and Jughead laughed.

"You always did fight for the underdog, baby," he smiled fondly. "You fought for the weirdo in high school, after all."

She cupped his cheek tenderly, a soft look in her eyes. "And, I still love you after all these years. Imagine that."

"Imagine that," he mouthed, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Betty," Robert said. "How are you doing with your kidnapping? The ramifications that have come with surviving it?"

Betty chewed her lip. "Well, I have PTSD, according to the therapist at headquarters. I'm not able to open up to her about it, however. My time in captivity."

"Yet, you have," Robert said, tilting his head towards to Jughead. "To your partner and your friends, from what the both of you have told me. So, it doesn't matter about the therapist at headquarters."

"As a therapist, are you allowed to say that?" Betty laughed.

Robert laughed as well, waving his hand. "Semantics. No, what I'm really curious about is how your PTSD is playing in your relationship. What's the role for it and does it have too much attention?"

Jughead felt himself get ready to defend Betty for that question but then caught the look on her face – it looked as if she was really thinking about Robert's question, causing Jughead to think about it as well. What part _did_ her PTSD play and how much attention did it or did it not deserve? How much did they need to let it consume their relationship or was it at a healthy amount of awareness for the both of them?

"Well," Betty began slowly, chewing her lip as she thought. "I think it plays a rather big portion. And, it scares me, you know? Not because I don't think I'll ever heal from it or anything. Part of me has addressed the fact that it'll most likely always be there and can be triggered easily one day while being dormant the next. However, what scares me is how much Jug has invested himself into making sure I'm alright. I do not mean I'm annoyed with him caring about me because I am _not_. Us caring about each other is as easy as falling asleep. But, I do worry that he'll forget to look after himself or know that I'm here to help him if he's having a bad day as well."

Robert turned to Jughead. "You said earlier on that you weren't happy with yourself or Betty that you were not her emergency contact. I understand that in the sense you wanted to be alerted when she was kidnapped and subsequently rescued but explain how deep that anger towards the both of you goes for yourself, if you can."

Jughead expelled a sigh, trying to collect his thoughts so he could say them delicately enough but with enough infliction to make his point come across in the most accurate way that he could. "When Betty and I broke up, Betts tried to fight for us. She recognized that she did something wrong by kissing a mutual friend, but my pride got in the way – despite the fact that we were all teenagers who had seen more trauma in our young lives than most adults have in theirs' ever. I couldn't seem to move past what happened. However, I sort of, I dunno, hoped she'd always fight for us. Like, that thought rested in the back of my mind when we all went our own ways."

Jughead paused to take a shaky breath, digging deep to find skeletons he had long buried. He figured that was the point of therapy, after all. He continued.

"When Betts stopped calling I, at the time, didn't realize it was because I had called her the night of my publishing party, drunk as hell, and had left her a God-awful voicemail. Something I'm not proud of in the slightest, by the way. So, as much as I hate to admit it, I can understand why I wasn't her emergency contact after she heard me say those hurtful words to her. She may have cheated, yes, but we were all kids at the time. As an adult, I don't really get that much of a free pass for my shitty behavior," he muttered.

It was Betty who spoke up. "Bull shit, Jughead."

Her tone was sharp and Jughead looked at her in surprise. "Sorry?"

"You heard me," she said, softening her tone. "Yes, you said some things that cut me, but I cut you, too. This isn't about who was a kid and who was an adult; it's about the fact that we _both_ did and said things we are not proud of baby. It's not a competition about who was the lesser of two evils in the process. And, I didn't have anyone as an emergency contact. No one. Not just you. That's on me and not you and baby, you can't blame yourself for that. It was my choice. An idiotic one, yes. I see that now. And, you're right in what you said during our fight the other night. I _am_ a martyr. I have this undeniable need to control the things I can and help those who are hurting while not caring about how I may get hurt in the process. So, that's something I would like some help with, if you're willing."

Jughead kissed her jaw, not giving a damn about the slight show of PDA as he nodded. "Of course, sweetheart. In return, if you can, you can remind me that you're still here and that I don't need to drink away my sins with alcohol."

She kissed him in turn, pressing her forehead to his. "You got it. Anything."

Robert smiled as they pulled a part. "That was a hell of a first session. Are you two interested in scheduling another one?"

Sharing a look with Betty, Jughead nodded.

"Yes," he replied determinedly. They were going to take it all back and fix everything.

**Author's note:** Enjoy! Thoughts appreciated as always! As usual, I proof-read and tried to catch any mistakes that I could but alas, I am human. There may be some. Xxx


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note:** Hello fellow Bughead lovers! We're at it with another chapter. I feel it's imperative to put a little trigger warning for this chapter. TW: Stalking. There will be a scene of stalking (talking about it, at least), in this chapter – _TBK_ and Betty. I won't go into detail but there will not be any sexual abuse. Physical at one point, yes. I feel I need to put that in here as well in case that makes people uncomfortable. Stay safe, always!

Jughead watched as Betty stared into her coffee cup, fingers shaking as she cradled it between her palms. There was a look of discontent in her eyes and he wasn't sure _why_. Not that he wouldn't understand if the look was simply there because of everything that was going on at the moment but something in the back of his mind told him it _wasn't_ that. That something else had happened and she hadn't told him about it. Fuck. He needed to speak to her just to be sure she was okay and safe. Always safe.

"Betty?" Jughead asked quietly, making his way towards where she was sat on the couch, legs tucked underneath her. She didn't appear to have heard him and he sat down slowly on the couch, lest he startled her out of the trance she seemed to be in. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, watching her for any reaction there might be; minute or otherwise. She blinked, pulling herself from wherever she had disappeared to in her mind and turned to him. Jughead breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that she recognized him and her surroundings; that she hadn't fallen too far into the abyss in her mind, losing herself in the process.

"Juggie," she murmured, shaking her head a little. "Sorry. Spaced out." She sent him a tight-lipped smile and he knew better than to drop it but also knew to approach the topic with care.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jughead asked softly, tenderly, as he pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. She expelled a quiet sigh, eyes clouded with something Jughead couldn't decipher. It was a look mixed between fear and resignation if he had to take a guess. Either way, he didn't like either one of those looks in his beloved's eyes. Ever.

"Remember how I said I needed to figure out if _TBK_ had started a side project of solely stalking me?" Betty asked quietly and Jughead's heart stuttered in his chest at the implication behind her words.

"I do," he said lowly, praying to God that he wasn't going to hear something he wouldn't be able to fathom happening to her. Again. Fuck you, Hal Cooper.

"I-I may have been right in that assessment," she muttered, rubbing her hand over the back of her neck. "I don't know if I'm going crazy or…"

"Or?" Jughead asked quietly, encouraging her to continue voicing her thoughts as his thumb swiped comforting strokes against her knuckles that were clenched tightly around her coffee mug's handle.

"Or, if he is stalking me. I swear, I think-I think I keep seeing him, you know?" Betty asked, voice a hurried whisper.

Jughead stiffened, feeling his protective side surging through him as intensely as a fire. "When."

"The other night, when you were working a shift at Pops and I came and visited you. I thought I saw someone hiding in the alleyway and went to go check- "

Jughead cut her off. "On your own? What the fuck. Baby, you can't _do_ that."

Betty sighed sadly, nodding her head. "I know, Juggie. And, I _am_ sorry. I know not to just go look down alleyways by myself – especially with a serial killer at large. I'm just…I'm just tired of being afraid all the time."

Jughead's breath hitched in his throat because she hadn't talked about it yet – her fear. She had addressed everything from her kidnapping to Polly's death and while that was all particularly important, she hadn't actually talked about her fear apart from the fact that it was prominent enough to disrupt her sleep patterns. He grabbed her hands, looking at her softly.

"Baby," he murmured. "You haven't talked about your fear. Ever. Do- _can_ you talk about it?"

Jughead Jones was not above begging the love of his life if it meant she'd open up about her PTSD. He watched as Betty studied his face before licking her lips and nodding slowly, uncertainties being held at bay for the time being, it seemed.

"I, well, I'm _scared_ , Juggie. All the time," Betty whispered, eyes staring at their clasped fingers. _“TBK_ took so much from me – my sister and sanity. Two things I don't know how to live without."

Jughead swallowed painfully, heart thumping harshly at her words. She sounded so…so _dejected_ and so very vulnerable and small; it wasn't something he was accustomed to hearing her sound like.

"Oh baby," he breathed. "We're going to fix it. All of it. Get it all back for you. I know Polly is gone and she won't be coming back and god, I am so _fucking_ sorry for that, you can't even begin to imagine, but I will not let you hurt on your own. I need you to keep talking to me. Please, Betty, I'm _begging_ you: keep talking to me. I need to know how you're doing each day."

Jughead watched as Betty nodded slowly, inhaling and exhaling several times before she breathed a quiet, "okay, I will". It was a promise he believed she not only meant but a promise he would hold her to from here on out. It was the only way she and they alike would keep being able to push themselves forward during what was undoubtedly the worst time they had faced yet.

XXX

Jughead, after hearing that Betty was worried about _TBK_ and his stalking mannerisms in regard to her, had a severely challenging time letting her out of his sight and that was saying something else altogether considering how hard it was for him from the jump to begin with. He had a shift at Pops that she wouldn't be able to meet with him for. He hated that but he knew her, Nick and Emma had some things they needed to discuss about the case and Glen, and they couldn't do that in public; not when Glen could show up, unannounced, and hear everything they had to say; everything everyone worked so hard to keep under the radar.

Kissing her thoroughly, he pulled back right before he needed to leave and looked at her. "Call me if you need _anything_. Tabitha knows you may need me right now since Polly's death and I get to keep my phone close. So anything, anything at all, call me and I'll be there."

Betty nodded, kissing him quickly once more. "Promise, Jug."

Her voice was soft and soothing, and he hated that she felt the need to soothe him when it was supposed to be the other way around, but Robert had insisted that in order for their relationship to keep growing they both needed to be on equal footing. So, he let her soothe him because it was the right call to make at the moment; he was scared shitless for her safety.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," she smiled softly. "Now, I promise to call if I need you at all. You better go or you'll be late for your shift."

Jughead nodded, heart torn at the idea of leaving her, but he did leave, regardless. Had he known how much he'd come to regret that later tonight, he'd never have left in the first place.

XXX

His shift was fine. His phone hadn't rang once and he got the periodic text from Betty informing him that her and the other two were still doing fine; Emma had her gun as well as Betty and they were safe. Nick was cracking jokes about cats and sharing stories about his husband from the earlier days in their relationship. They may even have time to swing by before his shift ended since they were on a fast track to getting everything they needed done.

No, it was all fine and well. Until it wasn't. Jughead had just stepped out for his smoke break, pulling out his phone to check and see if there was a new text when it rang, Emma's name flashing across the screen. _Why the fuck is Emma calling and not Betty?_ He didn't have the answer to the question, but he'd fucking get it.

"Emma? What's wrong?" Jughead demanded, pleasantries be damned. In his gut he knew this wasn't a social call.

"Jughead, get to the hospital, now," Emma required, shouting an "press the towel down harder, Nick!"

"Emma, what happened?" Jughead hissed, discarding his cigarette, and waving to Tabitha through the window, letting her know he had to go. She must have recognized the fear on his face because she waved him off.

" _TBK_ – fuck, _stop the bleeding, Nick! – TBK_ happened," Emma said, voice strangled. "We had just left the apartment to head to Pops and he was right outside, fucking waiting. It was a fucking ambush, Jughead. Betty and I had our guns but, he knew to expect them, and if that doesn't have Glen written all over it, I don't know what else does. He side-stepped the attack we launched with only the practiced precision of a federal agent. He shot once, Betty pushed me down, and then there was so much blood and he was gone by the time I looked back up. Ambulance are on their way."

"Fuck," Jughead said numbly. _Fuck._ "Her breathing? Steady enough or choppy?"

Jughead got in his car, putting his phone on speaker, and peeled out of the parking lot, heading to the hospital.

"Steady enough, now that Nick's got the bleeding stemmed some more. Jughead, just hurry to the hospital, okay? The paramedics just got here. We'll meet you there. Can-can you call Pea?" Emma asked, voice wavering and Jughead knew that despite how tough-as-nails the other woman came across at times, she had a soft spot for Betty, Sweet Pea, Nick, and shit, maybe even himself. He nodded.

"Yeah, Emma, I'll call him and have him there for you. I'll call everyone who's been helping, as well. Hang in there for our girl, okay?" Jughead asked. Emma sniffled.

"Okay, Jughead," she said quietly. "Drive safe, for the love of God. Please."

He chuckled wetly and promised he would. Then they disconnected the line, and he was on his way, praying to God he wasn't about to permanently lose Betty Cooper.

XXX

Sweet Pea and everyone else showed up right at the same time Jughead did.

"What do we know, Jones?" Sweet Pea demanded as they all ran inside.

"She was shot by _TBK_. That's all I know as of now," he said, hurrying to the nurses station. "Betty Cooper."

"Are you family?" The nurse asked and fuck, yes we're family, you incompetent bitch.

"Yes. All of us," Sweet Pea growled, and the nurse blinked, a bored expression crossing her face as she pulled up something on her computer.

"Betty Cooper is currently in surgery. Sit down and wait til I have an answer for you," she said.

Jughead bit his tongue to refrain from shouting a string of profanities at her; Toni and Ronnie were not so forceful with themselves.

" _Listen,_ bitch, that's my best friend you're talking about so carelessly. She's been shot. Give me the answer now or answer to Hiram Lodge," Veronica snapped and shit, yeah, Ronnie was mad because she would have never pulled the Daddy card otherwise.

"R-Right, so sorry, Ms. Lodge," the nurse stuttered out her apology before looking once more at her computer. "She really is in surgery and when I have the results of the surgery I'll personally be telling all of you."

Toni nodded. "Thanks. It'd be appreciated." Her tone was sharp, and she turned away from the desk, going to sit down in a chair.

Sweet Pea had ventured over towards Emma, pulling her into his chest as he said something into her ear quietly. Emma nodded and accepted the kiss on the forehead from him before letting him lead her to another chair.

Nick was pacing back and forth, biting his thumbnail. "I called Steve. I think he needed to know, Em."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, Steve cares about Betty just as much as the rest of us. Is he coming?"

"He's on the next flight out," Nick said.

After that, they all fell silent minus the few sniffles that went around the room. Ronnie had her head buried in Archie's lap; Fangs and Kevin were sitting next to a distraught looking Toni; Sweet Pea and Emma were seeking comfort from each other. They were all paired off in some form or another and Jughead realized that his form of comforting - the person he would be paired with – she was on the fucking operating table, fighting for her life. _Again_.

It could have been minutes or hours or, shit, days, that they had to sit and endure through a waiting period but finally, the nurse came forward with the doctor.

"Betty Cooper is one hell of a fighter," the doctor said. "Bullet pierced one of her organs, going through and through. She fought to stay alive and she did. She's alive. We're currently getting her settled in her recovery room. She'll need to stay for about a week so we can monitor her but other than that, she'll walk out of here with a scar but her life still intact. I'll have Amy bring you guys to her room once she's settled." With that, the doctor turned on her heel, waving away the grateful words they all expressed with a simple smile.

Eventually, Amy came and got them, bringing them to her recovery room and opening the door.

"Ms. Cooper?" Amy asked, and Jughead peered over her shoulder, noticing how Betty seemed a bit dazed. "Are you up for some visitors?"

"Yes. But, tell them I'm on painkillers and _cannot_ be held accountable for what I say. I mean, you guys gave me the good stuff. Like, drip of morphine happening _right now_ ," she exclaimed, punctuating her words. Jughead laughed wetly, finally able to breathe.

"Oh, they got you on that good shit, mini-Coop," Sweet Pea laughed, walking into the room, and taking a seat by the bed. Jughead took the one next to her head, holding her hand as he did so.

"Mhm, Sweet Pea, that _good shit_ ," she agreed with a hum, eyes closing lazily. Then, she opened them and looked at Jughead. "Fought for you."

He inhaled, knowing that, even if she wasn't aware of what she was saying at the moment, he was. He knew exactly what she meant by those words once more.

"Thank you, baby," he breathed, kissing her lips. "All I ask of you."

They all stayed and chatted, with Fangs, Toni, Kevin, Ronnie and Archie leaving first. That left Nick, Emma, Sweet Pea and Jughead. Sweet Pea didn't seem to be in a rush to let Emma fret on her own nor did he want Betty out of his sight so he stayed until the doctor had to kick them out – stating only partners could stay. That just left Jughead.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't just skip my shift."

Betty, while still having a steady flow of morphine thrumming through her veins, seemed lucid enough to understand what he was saying. "S'kay, Juggie. You have a job, too. It's 'mportant."

He laughed gently at her slurred words, knowing that she meant them regardless.

"Get some sleep baby," he said quietly.

"Be here when I wake up?" Betty mumbled, eyes slipping closed.

"Yeah, promise," he kissed her forehead. She smiled.

"Kay. Love you," she breathed.

"Love you," he mirrored, watching as she finally slipped off to sleep.

_Count your days, Glen, they're numbered._

**Author's note:** Hope you enjoyed this one! Xxx


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note:** Meant to update this yesterday but the day got away from me in-between running errands and catching up on Riverdale. Also, I'm gonna be _that_ person but my song choice suggestion for this one is Alanis Morissette's 'Learn'. For Betty in particular. Enjoy! Xxx

Jughead stayed with Betty overnight, making good on his promise that he'd be there when she woke up the following morning. He had slept fitfully the night before but that had nothing to do with the fact that the chair he had perched himself in was uncomfortable as fuck and had everything to do with the fact that every time he shut his eyes, he saw some variation of Betty being shot in front of him and bleeding out in his arms. It more often than not left him opening his eyes with a gasp and he wondered if this is how she found herself not wanting to sleep each night.

Eventually, he fell asleep around four in the morning, waking up around seven when the doctor came in to check on Betty herself. Betty was still sleeping, the pain killers from the night before coursing through her veins. Jughead watched as the doctor checked a few things on her heart monitor, smiling in satisfaction once she was through.

"Ms. Cooper will be all right," she said kindly, and Jughead blinked, realizing he must have had a look of apprehension etched into his features. He nodded.

"Thank you," he mumbled, exhausted to the bone but grateful, nonetheless.

"You should head home and get some sleep for a couple of hours," the doctor suggested but Jughead shook his head, lips set in a firm line, and the doctor laughed. "Thought I'd try."

"'A' for effort," he said easily, and she laughed once more before patting him on the shoulder and heading out of the room to go look in on another patient, leaving Jughead to go back to staring at the rise and fall of Betty's chest; he needed the reminder that _she_ was here and not going anywhere, this time.

XXX

Emma and Sweet Pea were the first to show up that morning, coffee in hands for Jughead and Betty, along with the two of them. Sweet Pea bent down to press a kiss to a barely awake Betty's forehead before stepping back to let Emma greet her.

"How you feeling, honey?" Emma asked, hugging her softly and gently.

Betty blinked owlishly. "I don't – I don't remember much of what happened. _TBK_ , maybe? Then a gun going off – hit me, I assume as I'm in the hospital – and…god, no one else got hurt, right?"

Jughead recognized that she was edging on the cliff of panic, ready to fall over at the drop of a word she wouldn't be able to stomach so was quick to assure her that everyone else was safe.

"No one else got hurt, baby," he murmured. "You, uh, actually saved Emma." He looked at Emma as he said this and she nodded, smiling at Betty. Betty blinked, licking her lips.

"Oh," she said. Blinked once more. "Good. I'm really glad it was me and not you, Emma." Then, in a quiet voice, "it needed to be me."

It was quiet in the hospital room for a moment before Sweet Pea spoke up.

"I don't ever want to hear you say something like that absurd bull shit again, you understand me?" Sweet Pea asked, voice calm but firm.

"Pea, I-I don't understand," Betty's brow crinkled in confusion. "You should be happy Emma didn't get shot."

"I am, do not get me wrong. I'm also incredibly grateful that you acted fast, but it doesn't mean it's any easier to see my best friend laying in a hospital bed hurt, again, because of a psychopath. So, please, don't say you deserved to be the one who got shot when no one did. _TBK_ will fucking pay for everything he did to his previous victims and you," Sweet Pea asserted, and Betty watched him, eyes curious.

"I'm your best friend?" Betty asked.

"Yes," Sweet Pea replied simply.

"You're going to make me cry and then I'll pop my staples, so thank you for saying that, you're my best friend too. But, like, you can't tell Archie that. Also, Veronica – you can't compete with her," Betty said.

Sweet Pea nodded, smiling. "I know Coop. Ronnie is in a different category altogether."

"So, we'll call you best friend/brother?" Betty double-checked.

Sweet Pea grinned once more. "You're damn right." He bent down to give her a gentle hug before stepping back once more and taking a seat in the chair next to Emma's, grabbing Emma's hand and lacing their fingers together. Betty busied herself with getting her coffee lid off and blowing some air onto the hot liquid before closing it once more and taking a sip.

"Are you two official, then?" Betty asked, and Emma nodded.

"Yep," she replied. "As official as you and Jughead."

Betty grinned, looking at Jughead. "Ooh, Juggie, we've got some competition."

He laughed. "We can go on a double date when you're out of here and healed enough, yeah, baby?"

She nodded, humming happily. "Sounds great."

Jughead watched her, smiling slightly as he ignored the sense of foreboding he felt coursing through him. He knew how Betty was when she took the blame upon her shoulders; how she'd get quiet and not let anyone help her through her guilt. How she'd do anything to fix what, in her opinion, was something she caused – something she believed to be her fault. He vowed to himself and Sweet Pea, as the two men made eye contact and subtly nodded at each other, to keep an eye on her and make sure personally she didn't deteriorate during her recovery period.

XXX

The Serpents and Ronnie and Archie showed up an hour later, sans Toni. Betty tilted her head curiously at that, looking between Kevin and Fangs. It was Fangs who filled in the blanks.

"Toni is visiting Cheryl and your mom, Betty," he said quietly, standing at the foot of her bed as Kevin took a seat at the end of it. "She wanted to be the one to tell them what happened so she can assure them both that you're okay. That you're already on the road to recovery."

Betty bit her lip, playing with the bagel she had gotten out of the bag half an hour before but hadn't actually eaten, despite Jughead's gentle reminders.

"God," she muttered, adjusting herself against her pillows as her eyes closed. "My mom doesn't need anymore things to worry about right now."

Fangs expelled a sigh, shoving his hands into his jeans. "She needed to know, hon."

Betty nodded but didn't say anything else on the matter and no one pressed her to. Ronnie spoke up, changing the subject.

"Do we have any word on where _TBK_ is now?" Ronnie asked, looking at Emma.

Emma nodded. "I spoke to Nick this morning. He's already tracing Glen's computer – Steve is helping him with that as Steve is _highly_ skilled in technology himself. They'll both be here in about fifteen minutes, by the way, Betty."

Betty smiled slightly. "Be good to see Steve, again. It's been too long."

"Yeah, you know he'll be fussing over you," Emma replied, and the two women smirked, sharing some sort of inside joke.

"God, I love him but there is nothing subtle about Steve," Betty added.

"Amen," Emma said.

XXX

Steve Peterson was a hurricane. Only word Jughead deemed fitting as he watched the dark-skinned man blow into the hospital room, greeting everyone by name before rushing to Betty, hugging her gently while reprimanding her for putting her ass on the line. Again.

"You got yourself shot, Betty," he scolded. "I love you, I swear, but dammit, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days. I've already started to go prematurely grey and shit, that is not an attractive look for a man who looks the way I do."

"God, Steve, you're so dramatic," Emma groaned, sipping her second coffee as she accepted the hug he gave her, as well. "Good to see you, babe."

"Em, you can't say you're happy Betty got shot?" Steve demanded, aghast at the idea.

"Don't be an idiot," she replied. "Of course I'm not. But she got shot being a hero and I'm choosing to focus on that instead of the fact that it could have ended differently."

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Right. Okay, focus on that."

Nick, who had been standing in the back, watching all this unfold patiently, finally piped in. "Told you she's okay, babe. She's Betty Cooper. She isn't anything less than resilient."

Steve, who was busy adjusting her pillows and offering her water, just nodded as Betty let him fuss over her with a complacent look on her face. Jughead found himself wondering how Steve was the first time Betty was in the hospital.

Fangs and Kevin left around lunchtime to go pick up food for everyone and brought it back, handing out orders of Pops. Betty, who had gotten quiet at some point, thanked Kevin softly and ate her food – played with it, rather. Jughead tried not to make it obvious that he was watching her and spotted Sweet Pea in much the same position. Catching the tallers' eye, Sweet Pea nodded when Jughead looked at everyone and then cut his eyes to the door.

"I think we should head out for a bit. Let Betty get some rest," Sweet Pea said casually as everyone wrapped up their lunches. They all agreed, heading out after saying their goodbyes and soon enough, it was just Jughead and Betty. Jughead took a bite of his hamburger, chewing as he thought carefully how to approach the topic with her.

"Not hungry, baby?" Jughead asked quietly, tilting his head at the three-quarter of a burger sitting loosely in her hands. Betty chewed her lip, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it.

"I'm scared, Juggie," she whispered, voice raw with emotion he had no trouble recognizing. He laid his own burger down and gently held onto her hand.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," he encouraged softly.

She inhaled shakily and then it was all pouring out of her. "It's the same fear I felt when I was in his lair. When he had kidnapped me, and I thought I was going to die before I had the chance to tell you how sorry I was for everything and how much I loved you. Except, this time, the fear is exponentially worse because everyone else is involved and the stakes are higher. Mom lost Polly because of me. Emma was nearly shot and if she had been, Pea would have been _crushed_. You have to check-in with me every night before bed, try to get me to take a sleeping pill just so I don't have horrifying nightmares. Archie and Ronnie are holding off on their wedding planning and that's not fair or right. They should be celebrating what is supposed to be one of the happiest milestones in their relationship. And, what's worst…" she trailed off, pausing to take in a breath of air as Jughead felt his heart splinter in a million different ways. She continued. "What's worst is Glen was in the hospital the first time, by my side, telling me he was so relieved that I was okay and that nothing too bad had happened. I slept with him Jug. _Slept with a serial killer._ Fuck. _Fuck._ "

Betty finally slumped back against her pillows; energy depleted once more as her monologue ended. Jughead ran a shaky hand through his hair, before hovering it over her chest, debating how to approach this so she could see none of it was her fault. He gently grabbed her hand and clutched it at his heart.

"Feel this? This heartbeat right here? It's beating for _you_. Because yours' is still beating. Because, no matter how many fucking times the universe tries to knock you down, you get back up time and time again, swinging back just the harder; just the fiercer.

Betty looked like she was going to interrupt or challenge or argue with him or _something_ that Jughead couldn't bare to happen while he worked on convincing herself to let her guilt go so he rushed on.

"Betty, baby, this _guilt_ you feel, it has to stop. I know it's coming from a place of care but you're going to make yourself sick with all the guilt consuming you," he said quietly, eyes falling to the burger she had yet to properly eat in her hand. "And, I'm not willing to let that happen. I refuse to let you be the one who ends yourself. You cannot give up on yourself because guilt is crushing you and pulling you under its' tidal wave. I know it's hard, baby. God, I _know_ it is. But each day you fight back is another day you get stronger. I know you must be so very tired of fighting back at this point but sweetheart, _don't stop._ Never stop. Because when you do, it'll have been for nothing."

His voice cracked; scared himself – for her. For what she's capable of when slipping into the dark corners of her mind. Not what she's capable of towards other people because Betty Cooper has only hurt people to protect those she cares about – but scared of what she's capable of doing to herself. Because, the ugly truth of the matter is this: some days, Betty Cooper does not give a fuck about herself and that makes Jughead want to scream and _riot_ against the world because it's not fucking fair. She deserves every ounce of love poured into herself to the point it overflows and pours back out, only to loop around because she's sewn into his arms and he'll pour it back into her.

He hadn't realized he was crying until her hand came up to his cheek, cupping it with her palm and he watched as she cried herself.

"I-I think I'm ready for help," she whispered. “I’m ready to talk to someone."

He smiled, exhaling a sigh of relief. "Then, we'll get you help, baby."

 **Author's note:** Thoughts appreciated as always! Xxx


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note:** The next few chapters will be action-packed, and angst driven. Buckle up!

Jughead, despite his attempt otherwise, had agreed to go back to Betty's apartment (they weren't calling it theirs' because she wanted one they both bought and didn't have negative memories tied to; he understood that), because she demanded he get sleep in a proper bed. He was hesitant and put up one hell of a fight but, ultimately, she wore him down. All she had to do, all she _eve_ r had to do, really, was blink her green doe eyes at him and he was bending to her whim; putty in her hands. So, with a gentle but meaningful kiss, he agreed, telling her that, under no circumstances, was she to leave the hospital; to go against medical advice and discharge herself while he wasn't there to at least have the conversation with her. She had nodded her agreement, saying she'd wait to discuss that with him if she decided to discharge herself against medical advice and he left, feeling a bit lighter since she had been shot in the first place.

After a couple hours of sleep, two cups of coffee, and a shower, Jughead Jones felt like a brand-new man and holy shit, what a time to be alive. He texted Sweet Pea to say that he was on the way back to the hospital and if he were going to go visit Betty that day with Emma, could they grab some Pops? He offered to pay them back, naturally, but Sweet Pea insisted it was his treat as Betty meant the world to him, too, and he was going to make sure she didn't destroy herself in the process of saving everyone else. He couldn't dispute that argument – Sweet Pea knew just as well as Jughead did how stubborn the blonde could be. So, he simply thanked his friend and said he'd be at the hospital soon.

XXX

Walking into Betty's room, Jughead stopped short in the doorway, staring at the bed that had been stripped of it's sheets. _What the fuck._ What. The. Fuck. Heart beating like a jackhammer in his throat, Jughead spun on his heel and hurried to the nurses station, shoulders radiating tension and nerves alike.

"Excuse me but did Betty Cooper get discharged?" Jughead asked, knowing damn well she didn't. He still held onto that small hope as if it was a life-preserver.

The nurse shook her head with a sigh. "No, we were wanting her to stay the next two days, but Ms. Cooper decided she wanted to check out. We advised her it wasn't the right time, and it could send her recovery to regress, but as she's not a threat to herself or anyone else, we can't legally make her stay. She checked herself out about an hour ago." The woman finished, checking the clock on the wall next to the desk to confirm her statement.

Jughead swallowed, ears ringing because, holy shit, he didn't know where Betty was. She checked out an hour ago, didn't tell him, (dammit, Betty, stop this shit), and there was a fucking psychopathic murderer on the loose in their town, hellbent on killing her. _Fuck._ Barely aware of the fact that he mumbled out some form of a thank you, Jughead resisted the urge to vomit the fear out of his system and yanked out his cellphone, calling Sweet Pea as he ran out of the hospital.

XXX

"What the hell do you mean she discharged herself?" Emma snapped, glaring at Jughead. Jughead knew she was concerned about Betty so didn't take her tone or glare directed towards him personally.

Raking a shaky hand through his hair, he shook his head. "That's what the nurse told me. That since she wasn't a threat to herself or others she, legally, had the right to do that. Even though they cautioned against it."

"Legality my ass," Sweet Pea snapped. "She's recovering from a fucking bullet wound and there is a fucking killer who wants her dead. We need to find her. Now."

Emma and Jughead both agreed, the two of them both sending out messages to the right people; Jughead – their friends; Emma – Nick and Steve and the agents watching over Alice.

"Jesus," Emma hissed. "It's like she just can't help herself. I didn't like that she ran in without backup when this all started but I didn't fault her for it because I understood her decision. She wanted to get to Theresa in time if she could. And, that's Betty Cooper. Save the ones she can, no matter the cost. But to just wait until she was on her own to be able to discharge herself? Fuck, I have a problem with that. It wasn't a smart call and I swear to God, she gets hurt again or worse, I'm personally kicking her ass."

Sweet Pea caressed her shoulder, hushing her gently. "We'll find her and kick it together. All of us. We just need to keep calm long enough to do that."

She nodded and discarded the cigarette he had given her; Emma didn't smoke much unless in a situation it called for – such as this one. Stresses were high. Cigarettes were smoked.

Soon, their crew showed up and wow, Jughead hadn't referred to anyone being a crew in a long time. But, he supposed that's what they were. A made-up crew consisting of people who had learned to love each other once more. He felt like he was apart of that and wore that title with pride. Ronnie and Archie immediately said they were going to divide and conquer parts of the Northside to look for her; the Serpents and Cheryl, who had come with Toni, were taking the South.

Jughead, Sweet Pea, Emma and Nick were taking the place that Polly had been discovered – the field was perfect dumping grounds for a body if Betty came across _TBK_ and they wanted to be there before that happened. Steve was going to stay at Alice's and track her phone on the chance she still had it on her.

Plan made, the group dispersed and Jughead, not a religious man by any count, prayed to God for her to be okay; for her to come _home_. He just needed her in his arms at this moment.

XXX

Reaching the field, Jughead and Sweet Pea had their guns at the ready, as did Emma. They had both shown their licenses for them and Emma said it was good enough for her; she just didn't need them arrested by a different agent for carrying them illegally. Nick was with them, but he didn't have a gun issued to him despite working for the FBI. He could have, but he preferred as minimal violence as possible and didn't like what guns represented. So, he never asked to have one in the first place. He worked on taking down the criminals with his technology; said it suited him just fine.

Jughead kept his ears peeled for any sound that he could. Any at all. He didn't know what all he was listening for; just that he hoped to God it wasn't Betty screaming in pain. Again. As soon as the thought filtered through his mind, he heard the fucking screams. Sharing a look with Sweet Pea, they both dashed in the direction they came from, looking for her.

"Betty!" Jughead screamed.

"Where are you, honey?" Sweet Pea yelled out, both men whipping their heads back and forth, looking for the blonde. It was Emma's gasp that had them halting their movements and looking at her.

"What, what?" Jughead asked hurriedly, searching around.

"G-guys," Emma said shakily, voice uncertain. "What the _fuck_ is that?" She was pointing at something on the ground, covered by the earth. Jughead dropped to his knees, looking at it closer and…

"Fuck, help me dig!" Jughead screamed, terror pinching at his nerve endings and shaking him to his core.

It was an arm. More accurately, Betty's arm. He recognized the small, intricate crown she had tattooed into the inside of her wrist. He began pulling and digging and _yanking_ at the soil, begging, and pleading they weren't too late. He didn't think they were as the screaming had happened moments before. Sweet Pea dropped down to his knees to begin digging on the other side, Emma opposite of them both and Nick at the beginning of the grave. And, fuck, it was a grave alright.

They didn't have shovels which would have been more efficient but with them all, they got through it quickly enough, and soon, Betty came into view. Jughead wanted to throw up at the pale tinge to her skin.

"Jughead, is she breathing?" Sweet Pea hissed as Jughead dropped his head to her chest, praying for a heartbeat. He shook his head, pinched her nose, and pulled open her mouth to begin mouth-to-mouth. Logically, he knew it should work as, again, he registered the screaming had only happened moments before, but panic was already way past settled in and he was fucking past the point of logistics. It was only when Betty coughed and coughed and coughed some more, yanking oxygen back into her lungs, that did he sit back on his heels and breathe properly himself.

"Jesus Christ, Betty," he sighed, staring at her. "Do you want to die at this point?"

And, yeah, maybe that was a harsh question, but he couldn't wrap his mind around why she ran after the killer on her own. Why she didn't just _wait_ for him. Why she sent him away to do this in the first place.

She shook her head, eyes holding pain for him. "Juggie, I know how bad this looks and I swear, I will let you scream and yell and be mad at me as much as you need. But, I got something that will put Glen in the ground."

Emma cocked her head to the side as a ping went off on Nick's phone. He looked down at the notification before a grin crossed his face. "Shit, Betty. You're damn good."

Jughead looked at Nick, then Betty. "What did you do."

Nick opened the link she had sent him, and they all watched the clip, smiles slowly pulling at their lips.

The video showed Glen, san mask, admitting to Betty he was _TBK_. He took her phone right after burying her alive, but, unbeknownst to Glen, Jughead's stupid, stubborn, _brave_ girl had linked her phone to Nick's so he could receive the confession before Glen destroyed her phone.

"Good girl," he said, kissing her. "Good fucking girl."

**Author's note:** Enjoy! Thoughts lovely as always. Written on lunch (mostly), so ignore any mistakes I didn't catch, please! Xxx


End file.
